


Retroversion Dissolution

by ShinjiShazaki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU Shenanigans, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:43:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 84,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinjiShazaki/pseuds/ShinjiShazaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewind reset: 24 hours ago.<br/>You ARE NOT one of the four kids we know.  You are one of ANOTHER set of players in a different session.  You ARE NOT being trolled by the twelve we know.  You are being contacted by twelve OTHER trolls, and one has just told you that you're going to die tomorrow.<br/>Your name is AMIE LAURENT, you're 18 YEARS OLD, and you hope you can get to the ALCHEMITER before THE CLOCK HITS ZERO.</p><p>This story will not be continued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. aspiringCarver

Your name is AMIE LAURENT, you’re 18 YEARS OLD, and you have no idea what’s going on.

Your MOM is missing.

Parts of your HOUSE are on FIRE.

There are METEORS LAYING WASTE TO CREATION outside.

You are SPRINTING UP STAIRCASES that your house didn’t have yesterday. There are A LOT OF STAIRS now, and by god you’re angry at your friend HUGH TANNER for dragging you into this SBURB game.

You hope you can get to the ALCHEMITER before THE CLOCK HITS ZERO.

—rewind reset: 6 hours ago—  
\-------  
—gregariousAmbassador [GA] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

AC: why’d you send me 2 game things?   
GA: I told you a week ago: we’re starting the game today.   
AC: so?   
GA: *sigh*  
GA: Amie, you agreed to play.  
GA: That means you need two discs.    
AC: why?   
GA: Because you’re going to be someone’s server player, and then you’re going to be a client.  
GA: See?  
GA: Two roles, two discs.   
AC: ok ok fine  
AC: don’t get why you want me to play it  
AC: i don’t play video games   
GA: You want to play THIS game, trust me.  
GA: It’ll be fun!   
AC: fine  
AC: so when do i do that server thing?   
GA: I planned it all out and you’re going to be Liam’s, so not for a while.  
GA: And I’m going to be your server so I’ll help you out both times.   
AC: why can’t we just all go in together?   
GA: It’s just a game thing. Everyone’s going to be too busy doing one thing to do the other.   
AC: agh fine ok!  
AC: i get it already!  
AC: i’ll play your weird game  
AC: geez  
AC: you’re lucky i don’t hate you or anything. :p   
GA: Ha ha!  
GA: Oh, you’re a riot, Miss Laurent.  
GA: Okay, I’ve got to go. Vita’s all set up as my server.  
GA: I’ll get back to you later when Liam starts.  
GA: See you on the other side! ;D

—gregariousAmbassador [GA] ceased pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

Amie sighed and sat back. Though she turned her chair and pushed off and away from her computer desk, she did not scoot close to her drafting table. She leaned back and stared at the envelopes fastened to the table’s top corner. The angled wood promised the envelopes would be visible with but a glance toward the sketches and works-in-progress scattered thereupon.

She drew her skinny, shorts-covered legs up and held them to her chest as she stared. The envelopes had arrived seven days prior with a note from Hugh, and he had come online to pester her almost the moment she returned from fetching the mail. He had laid out his plans in sentences blinking up so quickly in the Pesterlog she would have sworn he’d written them in advance and simply copy-pasted it all.

It was his enthusiasm in pitching the game a month ago that made her agree then, and it was his obvious glee that made her agree now. It did not, however, make her feel the same level of joy that pervaded Hugh’s swift type. She simply looked at the envelopes and tried to not be distracted by their presence.

There were only two reasons Amie sat there in her bedroom with her eyes on the discs. The first was that her computer was set there, with Pesterchum at the ready. The other was that she had been banned from her basement and the secondary studio there housed. Bandaging, bright and wide, was wrapped around her right arm and covered the stitches beneath. She tried to not itch at them and settled for gentle rubbing.

It was a poorly aimed strike with her hammer that left her sitting there. The granite had broken strangely, and her chisel had skipped backward as she stumbled forth. Flesh and metal met and parted amicably enough, with a gush of red to see them each off. Mom had been horrified to tears and shouting when she came up, and lay down the commandment: she could not carve alone.

That weekend, like many others, saw Mom leaving for two-day-long shopping escapades. Amie could not recall joining her on the outings, at first too young and then too concerned with whatever project she was wrapped up in to want to go. Thus, unattended as she was, locked as the door downstairs was, she sat in her room and wanted only to go back to her unfinished carvings.

The computer chirped at her. She straightened, putting her feet to the floor, and another two chirps rang out as she wheeled back to her desk.

—anlaceAgent [AA] began trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

AA: So.  
AA: Tomorrow’s the day.  
AA: Are you prepared?

Amie stared, eyes narrowing, before she brought her hands to the keyboard.

AC: i’m sorry  
AC: i don’t know who you are   
AA: Of course you don’t, you fuck-wit.   
AC: excuse me?!   
AA: It’s a very simple fucking question.  
AA: Answer me.  
AA: Are you prepared?   
AC: i don’t know what you’re talking about and i hate swearing!!   
AA: Is your shitty whining meant to have a point?   
AC: stop swearing!!   
AA: Fuck you.  
AA: And fuck no.  
AA: Answer me.   
AC: what are you talking about?!  
AC: what am i supposed to be prepared for?!   
AA: All right.  
AA: If you’re such a colossal fucking idiot, I’ll spell it out for you.  
AA: And you’ll answer me.  
AA: Tomorrow is the day you die.  
AA: Are you prepared for that, fuck-wit?

There was nothing more she wanted to do than to block the handle. Her fingers trembled with the urge for it, for the desire to snatch up her mouse and click out all the commands necessary. Her hands remained hovering over the keyboard. Slowly, her fingertips came down to the keys.

AC: i don’t know who you are  
AC: and i don’t care  
AC: you’re some dumb troll  
AC: even the computer says you are  
AC: so i want you to go away  
AC: i’m not going to die tomorrow  
AC: you’re just being a jerk   
AA: So fucking proper, aren’t you.  
AA: You can’t even call me ‘bitch’ or ‘bastard’?  
AA: It’s all right, you know.  
AA: I’m used to it.   
AC: i seriously don’t care what you’re used to  
AC: i want you to leave me alone  
AC: i’m busy   
AA: Of course.  
AA: The end of the world is pretty big fucking deal, after all.   
AC: ...  
AC: what   
AA: No, no.  
AA: I understand.  
AA: I’ll leave you alone.  
AA: For now.  
AA: Enjoy yourself, fuck-wit.  
AA: Try not to die too fucking soon.

—anlaceAgent [AA] ceased trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

“Oh my _god_ ,” she muttered. She turned to glare at her mouse, made to reach her hand out to it, and stopped. Teeth grit, her hand settled on the pad beside it. She closed her fingers tightly enough that it made her stitches sting. “You stupid, stupid— _whoever_ , stupid troll.” For a moment, she flicked her thumb against the side of the mouse and watched the cursor jump across the screen. The anlaceAgent handle, now thrust into her chumroll, had gone gray down to the small ‘rancorous’ face beside it. Every handle was gray but one, and so she clicked open a new window to tirelessGuardian.

—aspiringCarver [AC] began pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

AC: hey vita?   
TG: oh hey!  
TG: hiiii amie!   
AC: i know you’re supposed to be helping hugh  
AC: but are you free right now?   
TG: yeah, totally.  
TG: he’s just having me mess around with a few things. I can do other stuff at the same time.  
TG: so I’m just makin’ up some new flyers for school.  
TG: it’s my newest project:  
TG: protecting cats from the mean stuff people do for internet videos!  
TG: but I can always make time for my best girl friend.  
TG: what’s up?   
AC: um  
AC: i just got trolled by some weirdo  
AC: they said i was gonna die tomorrow  
AC: and that the world’s gonna end   
TG: that’s weird.  
TG: and totally stupid!  
TG: the world’s not going to end, silly!  
TG: they’re just trying to mess with you.  
TG: c’mon, don’t worry.  
TG: :)  
TG: we’re going to have fun playing a game this weekend!  
TG: that’s all you need to think about, ok?   
AC: but this waiting to go in after everyone is dumb  
AC: and why the heck did hugh decide we should do all this stuff so late at night?  
AC: isn’t it like midnight for him right now?   
TG: it’s nine for me...  
TG: what time is it at your house?   
AC: 10 at night   
TG: oh, right.  
TG: he said something about wanting to start everything on a new day.  
TG: new time or something.   
AC: hugh’s kinda weird   
TG: yeah.  
TG: but at least he’s a nice guy. :)   
AC: i know  
AC: i just wish i could go carve while i wait   
TG: did your mom really lock the door when she went out?   
AC: yeah   
TG: aw, I’m sorry sweetie.  
TG: but she’s not going to be gone too long!  
TG: cheer up!  
TG: she’ll be back and you’ll be able to carve when she does!  
TG: you should draw until she gets back.   
AC: i guess  
AC: actually yeah  
AC: that troll made me angry  
AC: i wanna do something now  
AC: thanks vita  
AC: you always make me feel better   
TG: no problem, sweetie!  
TG: you get drawing!  
TG: I want to see what you come up with!  
TG: :D   
AC: later   
TG: bye!

—aspiringCarver [AC] ceased pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

It wasn’t much, but a smile of sorts had come back to Amie’s face. With one more tap of her thumb to the mouse, she pushed away from her desk and spun about as she went. She stopped directly in front of the drafting table, and she leaned up to take a blue pencil in hand. Every emotion fed into her hands, and anger was always beautifully potent. She took a few pages in hand from the pile on the floor. Later, she would probably need more, but later was later, now was now, and a great swath was invading her, down to the heated tips of her fingers.

\-------

Amie had been drawing for years, and working until she put her head on the desk for what she always promised would be a brief moment of closing her eyes just as long. It was the chirping of her computer, hurried and harried and furious furious furious, that made her lift her groggy head any faster than she usually did. The enormous bang outside and the rumble under her feet made her wake up entirely. Wheeling back to her desk, rubbing her eyes, she looked at the window that had popped open at the beck and call of adeptTraducer.

—adeptTraducer [AT] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

AT: hey get online already  
AT: youre online i know you are  
AT: your handles all bright and everything  
AT: come on reply already!  
AT: Amie  
AT: Amie  
AT: Amie Laurent  
AT: Amie Goddamn Laurent  
AT: Amie where the hell are you?!  
AT: Jesus Christ get to your computer!  
AT: FUCKING CHRIST LAURENT NOW!  
AT: COME ON COME ON!  
AT: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!   
AC: oh my god liam!  
AC: i told you how much i hate swearing!   
AT: OKAY I REALLY DON’T GIVE A DAMN HERE!  
AT: GET SBURB INSTALLED RIGHT THE HELL NOW!   
AC: liam calm down  
AC: it’s just a game ok?   
AT: OH IT IS NOT “JUST” ANY FUCKING GAME!  
AT: YOU GET THE THING INSTALLED AND BE MY SERVER!   
AC: ok ok ok!!  
AC: gimme a second!   
AT: JESUS HURRY THE HELL UP!

She slid out of her chair and went back to the drafting table, grabbing both discs. She shuffled them back and forth, blinking against the grit in her eyes to see the labels written in Hugh’s tiny, untidy scribbling. Both she brought back, but she tossed the client disc down when she sat in favor of shoving the server disc into her computer.

AC: ok i have the discs  
AC: hang on a second   
AT: HOLY SHIT FINALLY!  
AT: JUST GET HUGH TALKING TO YOU AND GET ME IN ALREADY!

The epicycloids, warping and weaving together in a cascade of rainbows, would have transfixed her. They nearly did, were it not for the constant noise from Pesterchum slapping at her ears. She clicked away from the installation window and back to the chat client. Hugh’s handle was bright, his mood set to chummy, and she opened one more window.

—aspiringCarver [AC] began pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AC: hugh!  
AC: hugh you’re there right?   
GA: Yep, right here smacking some imps apart!   
AC: what  
AC: what?!  
AC: no forget it!  
AC: don’t explain i don’t care right now!  
AC: liam’s screaming and swearing at me to get him into the game and i don’t know what his problem is!   
GA: Oh, he’s probably got a lot of meteors coming his way.  
GA: I think they start increasing exponentially the more players you get in the chain, but I’ve been too busy fighting imps and stuff to try to do math.   
AC: oh my god  
AC: what are you talking about?!   
GA: It’s okay, it’s okay!

Another bang and rumble, louder and fiercer than before, made her jump and nearly fall from her chair at the same time.

AC: oh my god hugh!  
AC: something’s happening at my house!   
GA: Calm down!  
GA: It’s just the meteors!   
AC: how the heck am i supposed to calm down if there are meteors hitting my house?!   
GA: They’re not going to hit your house yet.  
GA: They’re probably just hitting other places near your house.  
GA: Just concentrate on getting Liam in and I’ll get you in right after him!   
AC: hugh what’s with this game?!  
AC: what’s going on?!   
GA: Amie, I mean it! You need to calm down!  
GA: Breathe, okay? Deep breath.   
AC: hugh shut up and tell me what’s going on!   
GA: Not right now! We’ll get you in and then I’ll explain!  
GA: Right now we need to get you and Liam in before the meteors hit!  
GA: Is the program installed yet?

A flash of red from her bedroom window made her look away from the screen entirely. The flash turned to flickering, and she rushed over. The glass was warm to the touch, nearly hot, because the houses in the neighborhood were ablaze in the dead gray light of predawn. She stared, eyes painfully wide, and felt her empty stomach seize. Stumbling backward, nearly falling over her heels, she ran back to the computer. Kicking aside her chair made sense, and so she stood and bent over the keyboard to look at the screen. The loading bar had disappeared, leaving behind a window showing a young man clad in black slapping at his keyboard. Between the spurts of slapping, though, he turned about, flailed his arms, and looked up directly to the point Amie stared at on the screen. The computer chirped again.

GA: Is it ready?   
AC: yeah!  
AC: am i seeing liam?!   
GA: Yeah, that’s him!  
GA: Okay, you need to deploy all four items from the paraphernalia registry.  
GA: Start with the cruxtruder and get the dowel out of there.  
GA: He might need help getting the top off, so just drop something heavy on it if he does.   
AC: what  
AC: no forget it  
AC: later later later  
AC: i just  
AC: do i seriously use this cursor thing?  
AC: i can mess with him and all his stuff?   
GA: Yes, but there’s a lot of meteors going right now. You need to start getting him in.   
AC: ok  
AC: ok hang on

AC: ok liam it’s ready to go  
AC: i’m gonna drop all the things in  
AC: um  
AC: in your living room ok?   
AT: fine just get moving!

She clicked away from the chat windows, missing at least once before returning to the Sburb window proper. Despite Hugh’s insistence, her breathing was starting to stutter; her shoulders shook and her hands skittered back and forth. The cursor jumped over every icon too quickly for her to read the titles. Pesterchum continued to sound off, but she could not set her mouse on either of the windows to read the messages. The chirping was drowned out by three more bangs outside, and she dropped to her knees to keep from falling with the shocks. She put her hands on her head, trying and failing utterly to keep her breathing under control.

Her chest halted in its heaving. Her throat closed entirely. She stared at the floor, and her heart began to slow. At the next quake, she did not fall over. Her hands rose from her head and took hold of the edge of the desk. She pulled herself up, brought the chair beneath her, and sat before the keyboard. Her throat gradually opened, and she put her hands down.

Amie watched as she deployed four items in quick succession: a cruxtruder, an alchemiter, a totem lathe, and a pre-punched captchalogue card. Liam was paid only enough attention to ensure he wasn’t crushed beneath the machines. She shifted to sit leisurely, hands folded in her lap and ankles crossed as she observed. Liam’s continued slapping at his keyboard was timed to the chimes from Pesterchum, but she did not move to respond. After a time, he abandoned the keyboard with a wave of his arms, middle fingers outstretched, and pulled a chain-ended sickle out of thin air.

The sylladex of another person was endlessly fascinating, in Amie’s opinion. The multitude of fetch modi and all the ways they forced one to extract the captchalogued items made her sit and mull idly for minutes on end. Though she had more than enough experience with her sketch-fetch to get any item on the first try, there had been a time when she had been unable to recall a simple picture book.

The strife deck and its specibi, though, were ubiquitous and unchanging no matter the person or fetching preference. Just as Liam could draw his chain-sickle from the specibus and simply have it in his hands, she was able to summon up a hammer and chisel. Rather, would be able to, had Mom not won it in a verbal strife before leaving and locked it away in the basement. Before, she had found the deck baffling, as uninterested in strife as was possible. Watching Liam slice apart the top of the cruxtruder, she thought she found at least some point in the deck’s existence.

A sphere of light, flickering spastically between white, black, and gold, emerged from the machine and hovered before Liam. With each flash, the epicycloids warped into the shapes that had blurred by during Sburb’s installation, and both client and server stared at it. The moment passed when he shook himself and reached to spin the wheel attached to the tube. A crystalline cylinder, colored the same gold as the intermittent flashes in the sphere, emerged from the tube with such suddenness that it jumped into the air. Though Liam caught it easily, he did not move. He returned his gaze to the light, and watched it follow him as he returned to the computer.

No chimes came to her for a time, and she looked from the corner of her eye toward the window. The fires beyond still raged, and she thought the room was warmer. She wanted to get up and run, but she neither knew where to go nor was able to move an inch. Her breathing remained steady, and her heartbeat was calm for it. All that was afforded to her was thought and sight, and so she looked back to the computer. Liam had left his living room. With remarkable calmness, he returned soon with something hidden in his hands. He looked up to where she watched, squinting as though it would do him any good.

So abruptly she could not follow, he flung the object in his hands into the light. It vanished, and so too did everything else in the room when the light enveloped everything in gold. It faded quickly, and the epicycloids were gone. In their place hovered a man wrapped top to bottom in the most stereotypical ninja outfit Amie had ever seen. With the assortment of weapons strapped to him, it might have been impressive, had the ninja not been bright gold and missing his legs. Nothing stopped her from laughing, and so she did. The smug grin on Liam’s face and the high five he gave the floating ninja made her nearly fall from her chair.

The masculine moment over, he scooped up the cylinder and card and strode to the totem lathe. With no hesitation in him, creating a carved totem and bringing it to the alchemiter took less than a minute ticking by on the cruxtruder’s counting-down clock. As the alchemiter scanned the totem, he lifted the sickle high. In one last flash of gold, a human shape, feminine in form, appeared on the alchemiter, standing with its arms spread and hands open. Liam’s sickle stopped centimeters shy of the shape’s face. He twitched the blade closer, but withdrew and let his arms drop to his sides. Eyes narrowing, he circled the thing.

Nothing changed. The cruxite woman remained in her posture of supplication and peace. Time ticked on. Liam did not react to the crashing that shook his home or to the cruxtruder’s clock. He stared and stared, circled and circled. Amie sat forward slowly. What she understood then was that the meteors were still falling, and Liam was spending his time staring at something with no face. She reached out her hands, but he moved to hold his sickle to the cruxite’s throat. She took back her hands, but he withdrew in time with her. She reached again; he put the sickle’s tip to the woman’s chest, over her heart.

Amie kept her hands on the keys, and Liam stood frozen. She could not see his face. Her breathing was calm, but control of it was slowly returning to her. The clock reached one minute. She moved.

AC: liam if you’re gonna do something do it already!!

He blinked at what she could only assume was his computer sounding off. He wrenched his hand back, lifted the sickle high, and swung it down at the cruxite’s neck. Head parted from body, and the light that filled the program’s window was dazzling. She closed her eyes against it, and did not open them again until she heard renewed chiming.

GA: Amie?  
GA: Amie, are you still there?  
GA: Liam said you got him in!  
GA: Amie!  
GA: C’mon, reply!   
AC: hugh?   
GA: Hey, there you are!  
GA: All right, go ahead and install your client disc.  
GA: I’ve got my server program ready to connect.   
AC: hugh what’s going on?   
GA: Huh?   
AC: i have no idea what i just was doing  
AC: it was like i wasn’t even doing anything at all  
AC: i was just watching my hands do stuff  
AC: and i was having a panic attack and then not having one because i started breathing normally again   
GA: Amie, I DID tell you to breathe.  
GA: Remember?   
AC: no  
AC: it was like  
AC: something MADE me do it  
AC: because then it made me do all the stuff to get liam in the game  
AC: wait  
AC: what does that even mean?  
AC: you keep saying get us into the game  
AC: where are we supposed to be going?   
GA: It’ll be a lot easier to get you in and explain then.  
GA: Safer too, since you said you’ve got meteors coming down on you.  
GA: So install your client program and connect with me. I’ll get you started really well.   
AC: fine   
GA: Hey, I promise it’ll be okay.  
GA: Don’t worry. ;)

Amie did not know if she believed him. She drew her fingers away from the keyboard, putting her hands on her knees. She looked toward the remaining envelope slowly and stared at the bright green broken house logo printed upon it. There was nothing holding her where she sat, but there was nothing pushing her to pick up the envelope. The sound of meteors crashing down outside was steadfastly ignored.

Once more, a series of chirps rang out from her computer. A long while passed after the last chime before she looked up.

—anlaceAgent [AA] began trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

AA: My.  
AA: I didn’t think you’d give up so fucking quickly.  
AA: Is this really where you’re going to give up on your shitty little life?  
AA: What a damnably pathetic creature you are.  
AA: What are you going to do now?  
AA: Advance or abscond?  
AA: Make your fucking choice.  
AA: I want to see what happens next.

—anlaceAgent [AA] ceased trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

She took the client envelope in hand.

\-------  
Be the Heir of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no way I can go halfway into a fandom, and this is the most fun I've had in a couple of years. I have so very many plans in the fire that it tickles me every day. I'm working on various visual designs for the characters and potential scenes, all of which will be posted up on my deviantArt page here: http://shinjishazaki.deviantart.com/
> 
> Do enjoy, and I'd love to hear any feeedback.


	2. gregariousAmbassador

### Chapter 2: gregariousAmbassador

Your name is HUGH TANNER and you are REALLY EXCITED.

You’ve spent the last six hours beating UNDERLINGS over the head with your TRUSTY WRENCH and LETTING EARTH GET DESTROYED.

A little more than a month ago, you had a DREAM about this game SBURB, and how you’d play it with your 3 BEST FRIENDS. You’re standing knee-deep in a drift in the LAND OF SNOW AND CRYSTALS, your laptop sitting on a titular tier. You know, down to the second, when WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN will transpire, and you grin as you COUNT DOWN in your head.

Right on cue, AMIE LAURENT falls screaming into the snow beside you.

—rewind reset: .5 hours ago—  
\-------  
—aspiringCarver [AC] began pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AC: ok i installed the client one   
GA: Great!  
GA: How’s it look outside?   
AC: most of the neighborhood is on fire   
GA: Okay.  
GA: I think we can take a little longer getting you in than Liam.  
GA: We should alchemize you some stuff.  
GA: Oh yeah.  
GA: You’ve got a ton of grist in your cache.   
AC: what?   
GA: Grist.  
GA: There’s a bunch of different types, but it’s what you need to build and alchemize stuff.  
GA: I had to gain a ton of levels before I could alchemize anything really good, but it looks like the last player has a lot of grist at the start.  
GA: Probably to make up for the level difference.  
GA: We set up a shared cache, so now we’ve got more than enough to make some cool swag for you.  
GA: What’s your specibus again?   
AC: chiselkind  
AC: but my mom locked it down in our basement studio before she left to  
AC: oh god  
AC: hugh what about my mom?   
GA: I think she’s okay.  
GA: If she’s not at your house, then there shouldn’t be any meteors coming at her.   
AC: ...  
AC: ok  
AC: i guess   
GA: So you don’t have anything in your strife deck right now?   
AC: no   
GA: Okay then.  
GA: You have a smart phone, right?  
GA: One with Pesterchum installed.   
AC: yeah   
GA: Get on that with me.  
GA: We’ll figure out something for your computer later.  
GA: And you said your chisel’s down in your locked basement?   
AC: yeah   
GA: Okay.  
GA: I’ll get on that.  
GA: Go get your phone.

Amie pushed away from the desk, wheeling to her bed. She had set her purse near her pillow before getting online the day before, and from it she took her phone. The meteor crashes had slowed, but the arrhythmia of the strikes made it impossible to grow used to the sounds or the rumbling beneath her. For a time, she sat fiddling with the settings on the phone’s chat client. With a smile she hoped was grim, she relocated the anlaceAgent handle from her chumroll to the trollslum and blocked it.

The tiny triumph was completely ruined by new sounds of smashing: stone against wood, and stone shattering. She bolted at once, rushing down two sets of stairs to arrive in the basement. A small cloud of dust was settling over a broken pile of granite and the fragments of what had once been a locked door. The rusty red stain on the cracked granite made her jaw drop and her arm lift her phone.

AC: hugh!!  
AC: that was the carving i was working on!   
GA: It was?  
GA: Oops.   
AC: why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?!   
GA: I was pretty sure you were going to tell me not to.

She stood very still for a moment, hands tight around her phone. Though her thumbs twitched, she put the phone in her pocket and climbed over the wreckage. The light switch was flicked, and she waved at the dust that still hung in the air. Blocks of stone sat where she had been forced to leave them, scattered amidst finished pieces. She strode to the back of the room and the drafting table there. The stool before it held her hammer and chisel, and she let them shift down into her specibus when she touched them. Her phone chimed.

GA: Hey, I’m going to build a few new levels on your house, okay?   
AC: what  
AC: why?   
GA: We have to go up in the game.  
GA: Really literally, up into the sky.  
GA: The easiest way to do that is for your server to build your house.  
GA: I’ll help you figure out building Liam’s house up later.  
GA: So don’t be surprised if you feel the place shake.   
AC: is it going to be worse than the meteors?   
GA: Shouldn’t be.  
GA: Hang on.

A low, distant thud came in time with a gentle tremor. She sat down, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension in them.

AC: that wasn’t bad   
GA: Cool!  
GA: Why don’t you figure out some stuff to alchemize with your chisel while I build?   
AC: huh?   
GA: The alchemiter lets you combine stuff.  
GA: Like, I use wrenchkind.  
GA: I combined my wrench with a bunch of fireworks I was going to set off next month on the fourth.  
GA: That made my Jubilation Wrench.  
GA: It makes explosions when I hit things.  
GA: And I alchemized that with a mirror, so now I have two.   
AC: i have to use both hands for chiselkind   
GA: No, I know.  
GA: Just start grabbing stuff you want to combine and put it in your sylladex. We need the captchalogue cards for this.  
GA: Ping me when you’re ready.  
GA: I’m going to keep building.   
AC: fine

She put the phone in her pocket once more and looked around the room. The dust hung in the air independent of all things, and so it remained still through the offbeat rattling of the house. All along the walls were hung framed paintings, taped up sketches, and posters held by pins. Above the drafting table was a poster of a black hole, and she set her eyes on it for a long while. Eventually, she let her eyes drop from the blue-white stars swirled around pure black down to the table. More sketches, designs for statues yet to be carved, lay there. A plasma ball was perched on a small stand next to the table, nestled amongst pencils and worn down chisels. For lack of any other ideas, she turned the thing on and watched the purple lightning sway inside the glass. When her phone chimed, she thought nothing of retrieving it from her pocket. Her breath left her in a long groan, though, at the message waiting for her.

—complaisantArchitect [CA] began trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

CA: hey!  
CA: th1s 1s 4m1e r1ght?   
AC: excuse me?   
CA: dev s41d y0ur n4me 1s 4m1e.  
CA: y0ure 4sp1r1ngC4rver r1ght?   
AC: who are you  
AC: and why do you know my name?   
CA: 0h.  
CA: 1 guess 1 d1dnt tell y0u my n4me.  
CA: 1m s1t4r4.   
AC: what?   
CA: s1t4r4. th4ts my n4me.   
AC: oh god  
AC: not leetspeak   
CA: wh4ts leetspe4k?   
AC: that thing where you change your letters into numbers  
AC: because you think you’re some amazing hacker or something and numbers are better   
CA: th4t s0unds stupid.   
AC: then why are you writing like that?   
CA: 0k 1m g00d w1th c0mputers but th4t d0esnt h4ve 4nyth1ng t0 d0 w1th 1t.  
CA: 1 just l1ke these numbers.  
CA: 4nd 1 d1dnt w4nt t0 use the numbers 0f the bl1nd pr0phets.   
AC: what?   
CA: 413  
CA: th0se 4re the numbers the bl1nd pr0phets use.   
AC: what  
AC: no  
AC: forget it  
AC: i don’t care what you stupid trolls are talking about   
CA: ye4h y0u s0und l1ke y0uve been t4lk1ng to dev.   
AC: who?   
CA: 44.  
CA: 4nl4ce4gent.   
AC: oh god  
AC: are you their friend or something?   
CA: 1s th4t the 4l1en w0rd f0r m01r41l?   
AC: are you seriously calling me an alien?  
AC: and what kind of word is ‘moirail’?   
CA: w0w  
CA: dev w4s r1ght.  
CA: y0ure re4lly e4sy t0 tr0ll.   
AC: i’m glad i can make your stupid day better  
AC: seriously though?  
AC: leave me alone   
CA: c0me 0n w41t!  
CA: y0ure n0t even 4 l1ttle cur10us 4b0ut wh4t dev t0ld y0u?

Amie stopped, fingers an inch short of tapping the ‘block’ button. She curled her fingers to touch her palm and reread the lines to translate them perfectly. Her pointer finger straightened, and she tapped letters one by one to reply.

AC: okay  
AC: fine  
AC: what do you want to say?   
CA: shes tell1ng the truth.  
CA: dev d0esnt l1e.  
CA: s0 y0ure g01ng t0 d1e t0d4y.   
AC: oh what do you even know?  
AC: like i’m supposed to believe a couple of trolls?  
AC: i mean  
AC: you’re telling me that the world’s gonna end and that i’m gonna die  
AC: like you know anything about anything   
CA: 0k.  
CA: wh4t 4b0ut y0ur h1ve?  
CA: the pl4ce y0u l1ve.  
CA: h4s y0ur h1ve been destr0yed by mete0rs yet?

She froze entirely.

CA: well?  
AC: what  
AC: what the  
AC: seriously  
AC: what’s WRONG with you?  
AC: what’s that supposed  
CA: 1ts n0t l1ke 1ts just y0u.  
CA: 0ur pl4net w4s destr0yed t00.  
CA: 4nd  
CA: y0u sh0uld t4lk t0 y0ur server 4b0ut wh4t he kn0ws.  
CA: 1 pr0m1se he d0es kn0w s0meth1ng.  
CA: s0  
CA: d0 y0u w4nt s0me help de4l1ng w1th the 4p0c4lypse?  
AC: no  
AC: shut up  
AC: shut up okay?  
AC: i’m having a bad day  
AC: i really don’t want you dumb trolls  
AC: trolling me  
AC: leave me alone  
AC: no  
AC: forget it  
AC: you don’t have to leave me alone  
AC: because i’m blocking you  
AC: right now

—aspiringCarver [AC] blocked complaisantArchitect [CA]—

She immediately sent the handle into the trollslum, holding her phone tightly in both hands. Her shoulders trembled, and she had stopped noticing the crashing. It helped that it seemed to have come to a halt. She chewed on her lip and closed her eyes. The silence was comforting. It was ruined by the loudest crash yet and rumbling so fierce that she was thrown entirely from the stool. Her head cracked against the floor and she rolled about a moment, snapping nonsense words and snarling. Her phone chimed at her quite urgently.

—gregariousAmbassador [GA] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

GA: oh geez  
GA: oh geez oh geez oh geez  
GA: Amie?  
GA: Amie, I need you to reply right now!  
GA: Amie please reply!  
GA: Seriously please!   
AC: hugh what  
AC: what just happened?   
GA: okay a meteor just hit your house  
GA: not anywhere near you right now  
GA: okay okay hang on  
GA: Okay. Okay.  
GA: I’m deploying all the stuff right now. If we get you into the incipisphere and onto your planet, I can stop the fire.  
GA: I can’t do it right now because editing your house would just set the new stuff on fire.  
GA: And PLEASE don’t ask me what I’m talking about because I SWEAR I’m going to explain later.  
GA: But I seriously need to get you in right now, okay?   
AC: i  
AC: okay  
AC: okay let’s go

Instantly, a machine appeared in thin air and slammed down to the floor, crushing another statue and two small blocks of stone. The cruxtruder stood waiting when she rose up, and she went to it quickly. A large fragment of marble was lifted high and dropped onto the lid. The metal crack made her throbbing head shriek, but she looked at the flickering sphere of light that emerged. It was colored the same purple pink shade as the color she used to type, as was the cruxite dowel. Her phone chimed yet again, and she looked at the screen.

GA: Okay, that’s your kernelsprite.  
GA: You need to prototype it.  
GA: Try to get something that’ll talk to you.   
AC: hugh nothing in here can talk   
GA: No I know just  
GA: It doesn’t have to literally be something that talks.  
GA: This sounds weird, but  
GA: I had a dog when I was little, and when it died, my dad had him cremated.  
GA: And I used his ashes.   
AC: ...   
GA: Yeah, I know, but whatever.  
GA: You need to have a sprite that you can talk to, so not some chunk of granite that’s just  
GA: Just a chunk of granite.  
GA: What about that statue in the corner over there?

She turned and grimaced.

AC: hugh  
AC: come on...   
GA: What?  
GA: What’s wrong?   
AC: do we really have to use THAT statue?   
GA: It’s got a face and a mouth.  
GA: It’ll be able to talk to you.   
AC: but  
AC: my mom bought me that dumb thing  
AC: i seriously don’t know why  
AC: it’s  
AC: it’s a troll   
GA: ...Amie.  
GA: That’s a satyr.   
AC: no it’s not  
AC: that’s a troll  
AC: i know the title  
AC: it’s ‘meditative troll’  
AC: i’m serious   
GA: Why’s that a problem?   
AC: ok  
AC: i’ve been getting trolled by the worst people  
AC: i really don’t want to deal with my sprite being a troll  
AC: it’s just gonna be a jerk to me   
GA: Amie, come on!  
GA: We need to get it prototyped and that’s the best thing close enough to you!  
GA: Seriously, there’s like three minutes left before the big meteor gets to your house.  
GA: Please, we can prototype it again later, but you need to get moving right now!   
AC: ok ok!  
AC: fine  
AC: i’ll do it

Without waiting for a reply, she jammed her phone into her back pocket once more. She strode to the statue quickly, but paused in front of it. Atop a craggy floor of marble sat a cross-legged male figure, clad in loose trousers and a sleeveless vest. His arms were crossed, his hands folded in its lap. The long, angular face was at rest, eyes closed, two sharp fangs peeking out from between his lips. From his head grew short hair, and from there sprouted long horns that curved gently back. She had never enjoyed the statue’s presence; she did not understand why her mother had bought the thing for her in the first place. Reference was the claim, but she had looked at it only grudgingly.

It was solid marble. It had taken a dolly and two burly men to bring it to the basement and set it where it stood. The sprite hovered at her shoulder, but it snapped sharp static at her when she reached out to it. Barely a second passed between the stinging of her fingers and the statue’s lifting into the air. She jumped backward to dodge it as it was tossed at the sprite. Just as the flare on her screen had been when Liam tossed the toy into his sprite was blinding, she was forced to close her eyes. Shoulders tensing, teeth clenching, she waited for the light pouring through her eyelids to fade.

“May I request your name, young one?”

She opened her eyes and lifted her brows in one motion.

The troll floated in the air, arms crossed behind his back. One brow was raised, but so too was one corner of his mouth. “Well?”

She mouthed nothing at all, swallowed, and took a breath. “Uh—Amie.”

The troll tilted his head a moment, pupils flickering into cascading pixels. He blinked and his eyes returned to normal. “Amie Laurent. Your planet will be the Land of Snow and Crystals. You are the Seer of Void.”

“What?”

“I believe you have two minutes and fifteen seconds before the meteor strikes your house and kills you. We need to take the dowel and create and destroy your totem before that happens. Shall we move along?”

“Uh.” She took a step to one side. “Um. I...yes? Okay. Um, okay.” She went to the cruxtruder and stood on her toes to take the dowel in hand. Cradling it in one arm, she stared at the sprite and went to the door. When she tripped on the broken wood of the door, the sprite caught the back of her shirt and kept her from falling. She looked back again, but the troll neither replied nor changed his expression from his small smile.

“Okay,” she said again. “Let’s go. Do you know where the alchemiter and the—the lathe are?”

“Five levels up for the lathe, and the alchemiter is on what is currently the roof.”

Her jaw dropped; her eyes widened. “He built that many floors this fast?”

“It’s been about thirty minutes since you started the game.”

“Oh.”

“One minute forty-six seconds.”

She started to sprint up the stairs. Each staircase was more meandering than the last, and she chased after the sprite as it led her to each continuation. A sharp corner had to be taken on the fourth level, and she leaped straight into the open air to avoid the burning, meteor ruined floor. Her bare feet jerked at the wild heat beneath them, both from the flames of her house and the chaos outside. Smoother than she thought possible, the sprite caught her by her arms and swung her back and up onto the staircase. Her muscles twitched in the spasms called up by the sprite’s electric, ethereal form, but she gave him one glance before starting her dash again.

A pre-punched card sat on the lathe, and she shoved it into the waiting slot after jamming the dowel into the chucks. It was shaved down into a thin pillar, with three thick swells at its middle. Her sweating, equal parts made from flame and exertion and terror, made her fumble the dowel clean out of her hands. A desperate swipe let her catch the thing, but she nearly stumbled when she tried to begin a new sprint. She caught herself on the next set of stairs, and scrambled up them half hunched over with her free hand on the next step.

The once-gray sky was painted filthy rose by the blaze and smoke below it. There were no houses left standing; the barest char frames remained in sight through the dancing red. The alchemiter was waiting for her, and she put the totem onto the analyzing platform. As the laser scanned the cruxite and the machine whirred as it warmed up, she called up her hammer and chisel. Rolling her shoulders, staring at the main platform, she swallowed hard. She did not raise the chisel as Liam had his sickle, and she grit her teeth in anxiety.

Her mother appeared. She was faceless, her curly crystal hair unmoving in the heat wind. In her arms was a bouquet of flowers, wrapped delicately and tied with a bow. It had been how her mother had woken her the day after completing her first sculpture. Those two days had covered her birthday a year ago. The flowers had made her smile, even if the pancakes for breakfast made her feel six. She had still loved them.

The sprite did not speak. She did not want to move. Her throat tightened. She could see an ugly sphere of craggy, flaming red stone appear in the sky out of the corner of her eye. Her fingers squirmed on the handles in her grasp, and they squirmed in the sweat of her palms. The heat was awful; the meteor was horrifying. When she squinted, she thought she could see a point of faded black at the statue’s heart. She stopped squinting immediately.

Amie wanted to let her arms drop. They would not. Her elbows were locked in place, and her hands stopped shaking. Her legs walked her forward. Her arms lifted. She closed her eyes; they were made to open. She stepped up onto the platform and placed the chisel’s tip on the statue’s chest. She swung the hammer as hard as she could, and the cruxite shattered and exploded.

The heat was instantly reversed, and she gasped at the frigid wind that sliced into the sweat on her neck. She began to shake from the cold, opening her eyes wide to stare at her bare feet. Teeth chattering, she shifted the hammer and chisel out of existence and wrapped her arms tight around herself. The wind brought snow into her eyes, and she pressed hard on her eyelids when they shut in reaction.

A low, rumbling growl undercut by sharp hissing filled the air around her. She blinked out the cold water in her eyes and looked up. The dull light from the sky was blocked out and let loose by the massive wings attached to a long, winding serpent. Long, glistening fangs protruded from its mouth, and liquid oozed from them as its maw opened. It was colored deep purple, but its eyes were a bright glowing gold. Amie forgot how to breathe and felt her heart stutter.

A back was before her, covered by a green cloak so dark in the shadows it looked as though it was made of ink. When she looked up, she saw a head wrapped by a hood and the long, curved, candy-corn colored horns that extended beyond the cloth. The left horn was hooked and swept down, and when the figure turned its head, the first thing she saw was a ragged, ripped apart ear that could have once been pointed. The skin was gray, and square glasses sat on the end of a small, blunt nose. The lips parted in a wide smile to show fangs as sharp as the winged serpent’s.

Amie was thrown bodily from the roof, through the wind and snow, and had time enough only to see the figure leap high into the air, arms spread wide, and knives extending from gauntlets on their wrist. She could see, just past the long cloak, the faint curves that told of the woman within the green cloth. Then the falling began in earnest, and she screamed as she went.

In her perception, barely a second passed before she fell into a thick cushion of snow. She wanted to let out another scream, but the deep dark cold stole every last piece of air in her lungs. She tried desperately to swim out of the snow, arms flailing, but she only dug herself in deeper. When her fingers managed to swing through air, her hand was caught and she was pulled free.

A young man with short brown hair grinned broadly at her as he helped her to her feet. When they stood on an even level in the drift, he was considerably taller than her. His hair was slightly wavy, despite its short length. She kept her own brown hair tied back because of its thick curls, and she tugged at it anxiously as she took a step back. The step was negated when he lunged forward and caught her in a tight hug.

“Amie!” he said. “I finally get to meet you!” Before she could push him away, he stepped back and held her at arm’s length. He looked her up and down and laughed in glee. “What’s up?”

She wrapped her arms around herself once more, shivering furiously. “H-Hugh?”

“Yeah!” he said. “I was worried you weren’t going to get in!” He paused and glanced up at the house. “Why’d you fall off the roof like that?”

“No, I didn’t—I didn’t fall off,” she said. “Someone threw me off.” She pointed up, and jumped at the sudden echoing shriek that rang out from the distance. A flash cast long shadows down the walls, and when the light vanished, shapes in wild sizes and colors rained down. Hugh pulled her out of the way of a massive ruby-red gem and stared up at the roof. A long moment passed, and a black shadow flitted across the gray sky. She gaped at the gem and didn’t react immediately to Hugh letting go of her arm. She turned in time to see him pull a wrench from nowhere and thrust it forward. A gear appeared, and the wrench caught its center to let him hold it tight. He turned it backward and vanished.

\-------  
Contact the Bard of Space


	3. tirelessGuardian

Your name is VITA HIROYUKI and you are PRETTY ANNOYED.

You wanted to get off the LAND OF FLOW AND FROGS and finally meet your 3 BEST FRIENDS twenty minutes ago.

BUT NO.

Instead, you’re getting an EYEFUL OF TROLL TEXT in between fighting WAY TOO MANY UNDERLINGS.

You’re starting to QUESTION HUGH’S INTELLIGENCE.

—rewind reset: 20 minutes ago—  
\-------  
—tergiversantChaotic [TC] began trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

TC: wHaT uP yA fUcKiN aLiEn ChIcK?   
TG: oh, what the hell?   
TC: i SaId WhAt’S uP?  
TC: tHoUgHt I sHoUlD gEt To Ya At ThE sTaRt ViTa.  
TC: So HoW’s ShIt?   
TG: how the hell do you know my name?   
TC: YoU tOlD mE yOuR nAmE bAbE.  
TC: lAsT tImE wE tAlKeD.   
TG: we have NEVER spoken before.  
TG: and I’m REALLY busy right now, so you need to leave me alone.   
TC: nAh NaH bAbE.  
TC: wE’rE gOnNa FuCkIn ChAt AwHiLe.  
TC: It’Ll Be GrEaT sHiT.   
TG: oh jesus christ.  
TG: are you seriously gonna type like that?  
TG: and how the hell can you type like that so quickly?   
TC: hAhAhAhAhAhA!  
TC: yEaRs Of ExPeRiEnCe BaBe!  
TC: I dIdN’t ThInK iT’d PiSs YoU aLiEnS oFf LiKe It DoEs To ThE gRuBfUcKeRs I’m WiTh HeRe BuT iT tOtAlLy DoEs!  
TC: YoU gUyS aRe FuCkIn GrEaT!  
TC: i ShOuLd TeLl AlL oF ‘eM tO tRoLl ThE sHiT oUtTa Ya!  
TC: Oh.  
TC: HaHaHaHaHaHa!  
TC: FoR oNcE tHaT fUcKiN uPtIgHt RaPoTo An’ Me AgReE!   
TG: oh  
TG: god  
TG: please shut uuuuuup.   
TC: nO fUcKiN cHaNcE bAbE!   
TG: if you’re not going to shut up, at least call me by my name!  
TG: it’s not babe!   
TC: wHoA tHeRe.  
TC: CoOl YoUr AlIeN tItS.  
TC: sUrE i’Ll CaLl YoU vItA.  
TC: hEy YoU sHoUlD cAlL mE kIjAnI.   
TG: why?  
TG: does that mean troll douchebag?  
TG: because it’d fit perfectly.   
TC: hAhAhAhAhAhAhAhAhA!  
TC: wHaT iF i ToLd YoU iT mEaNt BaDdEsT mOtHeRfUcKeR oF aLl AlTeRnIa?  
TC: BeCaUsE tHaT fItS bEsT.   
TG: jesus.  
TG: now I know why amie was so upset.  
TG: are there actually more trolls than you?   
TC: sHiT yEaH.  
TC: lOtS mOrE.  
TC: wE’rE aLl JuSt FuCkIn StUcK hErE.  
TC: i KiNdA fEeL fUcKiN bAd FoR iT.  
TC: i’M tHe MaIn MaN bAbE.  
TC: mAgE oF tHe MoThErFuCkIn VoId.  
TC: ShOuLdA sEeN tHaT aLl CoMinG.  
TC: Oh YeAh.  
TC: YoU sHoUlD dUcK.

—tirelessGuardian [TG] is now an idle chum!—

TC: sHiT.  
TC: i FuCkIn ToLd YoU.

—tergiversantChaotic [TC] ceased trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

Amie stared, mouth falling open, at the place where Hugh had once stood. His footprints had not vanished but increased in number, and his laptop no longer sat on the crystal tier. She stood entirely alone in the snow, barefoot and wearing shorts and a tanktop. The tension that filled her combated with the cold for what made her shake fiercer. A sharp sound came through the wind, and she looked up with every horrified expectation of finding another winged serpent.

Hugh flew from the roof, and his screaming grew louder the closer he came to the ground. He crashed down in a drift some distance away, and she picked her way gingerly through the snow to reach him. In his landing, he had acquired a sturdy helmet of snow stuck near the ground, and he flailed madly in his efforts to get loose. When he yanked himself out, his force was great enough to send him sprawling on his rear.

“ _Shit_!” He coughed, rubbing at the snowing that was melting into his eyes. “What the hell was that?”

Through chattering teeth, she asked, “What was what?”

“What was the thing that just threw us both off the roof?” He coughed again and got to his feet. “Did you seriously make our imps _trolls_ with that stupid statue?”

“That was not an underling.” They both started at the sound of the sprite’s voice. He had come to hover behind them, looking up toward the house. “That was a foreign element.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hugh asked.

“As much as it will,” the sprite said. “I have no knowledge of foreign elements in the game.”

“So you can’t tell us anything about what just threw us off a goddamn _roof_?”

“Only that it is foreign to this game. It is not an underling, and it is not one of this session’s players.”

“Then what?” he shouted. “Whatever that was killed a giant basilisk with one attack! And that basilisk wasn’t like any of the things I’ve been fighting! None of us prototyped a giant snake with fucking _wings_! Are you telling me there’s a _glitch_ in the game?”

“It is a very likely possibility.”

He stared, mouth half open and hands hanging limply at his sides. “But—my dreams never showed me any of this. Just that we’d play.”

“I am not privy to your dreams, Heir,” the sprite said. “I am, however, Amie’s sprite.”

“So?” Hugh asked.

“She has been standing barefoot in the snow for some time, and while the fires have gone out, there are now portions of her house that are in disrepair.” He leaned close to Hugh, touching their brows so static would arc. “I am her sprite, and my purpose is to assist and guide her. We may continue this discussion once we are inside and the house is repaired.”

Arguing with the construct had been on a low rung in Hugh’s mind, and it was dropped entirely from his thoughts when he looked at Amie. She stared at him, eyes narrow and body shaking visibly. He looked back, his mouth starting to work on the air he would have to put his words in.

“You actually knew all of this was going to happen?” she asked.

He sputtered.

“You _knew_?” she demanded. “You knew this whole time you were telling us to get ready to play this game that it was going to destroy the world?”

“What? No—no, it doesn’t do that!”

“Then why did that troll say you knew about all this and ask me if my house had been destroyed? Hugh—you live in _Manchester_! In _New Hampshire_! You’re on a completely different coast than Vita and Liam, and you’re telling me that the meteors only hit _our_ houses?”

“Amie, that’s not—you’re gonna listen to some random troll and not me? We’ve been friends for years!”

“Then what _is_ it?” she shouted. “What do you want me to believe? That a guy I’ve been talking to _for years_ is having dreams about the future and leaving out the end of the world is the person I should trust now? Why _shouldn’t_ I believe a troll who’s telling me the truth about what’s happened?”

“You don’t know that they were right!”

“Then you tell me if they were! Tell me the truth! Did your dreams show you that the world was going to get destroyed?”

He closed his mouth slowly and looked away.

“Oh—just— _fuck_ this!”

He felt the need to step backward, but because he saw her stomping away he hurried after her. “Amie, wait, what did you just—”

“Don’t say anything to me!”

“But you—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She turned around and shoved him back. “My house is screwed up and it’s your goddamn job to fix it! I need to put on more fucking clothes before I fucking freeze and you need to leave me alone!”

“Amie, I’m _sorry_!”

“And I don’t care!” She stopped and shoved him again. “If you want me to stop being mad, you need to go the hell away until I tell you it’s okay to come back!”

“But—”

“Hugh. I fucking—no, I mean it.” She put her hands to her forehead, almost stumbling on the steps to the front door because she wasn’t looking. She bit down on the words that poured out at the pain from cold toes against granite, but some curses still came through her teeth. For a moment, she looked at him once more, but she went silent and absconded through the door.

The only option left to her was to hobble, and so she shuffled and winced as she went up the stairs. Her bedroom retained some warmth, but she went to her bed and crawled under the covers. As they thawed, her feet ached and felt as though they oozed blood. Gingerly, grimacing as she felt the snow on her shoulders melt and dribble down her chest, she pulled the blanket over her head and rolled onto her stomach.

She breathed in the warming air and did not care that it grew stale. She stared into the dark until her eyes rebelled and she closed them tight. The sound of her breathing was calming, and she listened closely to it. Aided by the blanket, it came to block out the wind noise outside. Before she could put her hands over her ears, her phone, still nestled in her pocket, chimed.

—anlaceAgent [AA] began trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

AA: Hello.   
AC: oh sweet fucking christ on a pogo stick  
AC: not  
AC: you   
AA: That was unexpected.  
AA: Didn’t you once tell me to stop my swearing?   
AC: how the hell did you start pestering me?  
AC: i blocked you  
AC: and i blocked your stupid  
AC: stupid rail something   
AA: My moirail?  
AA: You’ve talked to Sitara?  
AA: Ah. I remember now.  
AA: That was a long while ago.   
AC: stop bothering me!!  
AC: go the fuck away!!   
AA: Oh, for fuck’s sake.  
AA: What’s gotten you so upset?   
AC: someone i thought was one of my best friends lied to me about this stupid game  
AC: so now the world’s destroyed and i’m stuck in this shitty snowy place  
AC: and there are things that want to fucking kill me  
AC: and i’m getting trolled by assholes like you  
AC: and god dammit i can’t stop swearing again   
AA: Huh.   
AC: please  
AC: PLEASE  
AC: just leave me alone   
AA: No.  
AA: Talk to me.   
AC: ...  
AC: what?  
AC: no  
AC: why should i do that?  
AC: why WOULD i do that?  
AC: you’ve only ever been a  
AC: a  
AC: an ass to me  
AC: a stupid troll   
AA: From when you are, how many times have we spoken?   
AC: huh?   
AA: It’s a simple fucking question.   
AC: jesus christ fine  
AC: this is the second time   
AA: Ah.  
AA: Well then.  
AA: If you’re going to have such a hard time talking to me, why not contact your moirail?   
AC: that word doesn’t mean anything  
AC: it doesn’t make sense   
AA: Hmm.  
AA: Sitara didn’t explain it, did she.   
AC: then what the fuck is it supposed to mean?   
AA: Who helps keep you in line?   
AC: excuse me?  
AC: no one  
AC: no one’s my mom   
AA: Setting aside the ridiculous word you just used, let me put it in a way you might understand.  
AA: Who is your ‘friend’?  
AA: Who do you go to when you’re upset like this?   
AC: ...  
AC: vita   
AA: Then why not talk to her if you’re going to be such a whiny fucking wriggler to me?   
AC: i  
AC: okay what  
AC: what the fuck?  
AC: why are you acting like you’re going to be nice to me?   
AA: This isn’t nice?  
AA: This is record setting for me.  
AA: I’ve got a kismesis and probably two other trolls lusting black as night for me.  
AA: I save being nice for Sitara.  
AA: Hmm.  
AA: And now you, I suppose.   
AC: what the hell  
AC: you’re being weird now  
AC: on top of being an asshole troll  
AC: and what the fuck is a kismesis?   
AA: I’ve explained that to you already.  
AA: Quite some time ago.   
AC: what?   
AA: In any case.  
AA: You should talk to this Vita moirail of yours.  
AA: Perhaps it’ll help you get your shit in order.

—anlaceAgent [AA] ceased trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

She stared at the phone, fingers shy of touching the screen. The handle had gone dark within the trollslum, and she looked up slowly to the chumroll. All three handles there were alight. At the end of the list sat tirelessGuardian, mood set to cheery. She snuck her head and hands free from the blanket, blinking at the light from the standing lamps. With thawed fingers, she tapped open a new window.

—aspiringCarver [AC] began pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

AC: vita?  
AC: hey vita?  
AC: are you there?  
AC: ...  
AC: vita?  
AC: are you busy?   
TG: huh?  
TG: oh.  
TG: hey amie.   
AC: ...vita?  
AC: are you okay?   
TG: um  
TG: no  
TG: yeah  
TG: yeah, I’m okay.  
TG: just  
TG: I got dragged away from a bunch of imps.  
TG: liam came at just the right time.  
TG: I’m just tired right now.  
TG: my leg still hurts.   
AC: what?  
AC: why?   
TG: this crazy new imp was like a huge goat.  
TG: it kicked me reeeeeeeeally hard and broke my leg.   
AC: WHAT   
TG: no, calm down.   
AC: YOUR FUCKING LEG IS BROKEN?!   
TG: it’s not broken anymore!  
TG: liam gave me a healing candy!  
TG: it’s all better!  
TG: hey whoa wait.  
TG: why’re you swearing?  
TG: I thought you hated it more than anything.   
AC: my mom hates it  
AC: she hates it from me  
AC: like  
AC: she always said i should be smarter and say what i really mean when i’m mad instead of just flying off the rails and swearing  
AC: but it’s always what i really mean  
AC: and it’s all i can say when i’m angry like this  
AC: but she gets  
AC: i dunno  
AC: angry with me if i swear like this  
AC: and when i talk with people who do swear a lot it’s like it’s something normal and ok to do  
AC: it pisses me off to want to swear and have my mom tell me i shouldn’t   
TG: oh no.  
TG: did another troll start bothering you?  
TG: they finally got to me and god do I understand how you could be swearing right now.   
AC: no  
AC: it’s hugh  
AC: he’s here and  
AC: when you two chat does he ever swear?   
TG: well, yeah.   
AC: do you?   
TG: yeah. not as much as either of the boys, but I do.   
AC: so  
AC: you guys don’t swear around me?   
TG: of course not.  
TG: you asked us not to.  
TG: but it’s not going to bother US if you swear.  
TG: it IS normal.  
TG: if that’s what’s bugging you.   
AC: it’s  
AC: it’s not really   
TG: what is, then?   
AC: hugh  
AC: he lied about this game  
AC: he knew all about the stuff that’s happened   
TG: hey, does he know why there’s a huge goat in here, then?  
TG: none of us prototyped a huge goat, unless you did.   
AC: ok hugh said the same thing to my sprite after seeing this huge snake with wings   
TG: okay.  
TG: my sprite told me that the underlings take on traits from what we prototype the kernelsprite with before we get in.  
TG: that’s why we said that.   
AC: ...   
TG: you’re mad because he didn’t tell us the truth about how the game starts or the meteors.  
TG: but it looks like his dreams, whatever that means, didn’t tell him absolutely everything.   
AC: so...  
AC: what?  
AC: am i supposed to not be pissed off?   
TG: oh god no.  
TG: sweetie, I’d kick his ass right now if I could.  
TG: but I think we need to think about what’s going on right now.  
TG: hugh needs to apologize and explain a lot more than he has, for sure.  
TG: but here’s the thing.  
TG: we’re on planets full of things that want to kill us, and it’s just us four against them.  
TG: for now, we work together and you give him the chance to speak.  
TG: deal?   
AC: ...   
TG: amie, say yes or I swear to god I’m going to tickle you to death when we meet.   
AC: ok ok!  
AC: i’ll let him talk  
AC: fuck   
TG: wow, it’s hilarious to see you swear.  
TG: so don’t forget:  
TG: it’s okay to swear. :)  
TG: now go talk to him, okay?   
AC: ...ok   
TG: good girl.  
TG: I’ll try to get to your planet soon.   
AC: ok  
AC: hey  
AC: i’m excited to see you   
TG: ditto!  
TG: see you soon!   
AC: ok  
AC: later

—aspiringCarver [AC] ceased pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

Amie took a long time in sitting up, and held the blanket tight around her shoulders as she did. Turning her head toward the window told her that the light had not changed despite the time that had passed. She could not remember if she had felt any tremors from the house being rebuilt. There were no messages waiting for her from Hugh’s handle, and she did not open a window to him. Instead, she stood from the bed and shucked the dampened blanket. Her clothes stuck to her skin, and so she went to her closet with every intention of changing.

The half-open door broke into splinters the moment she touched it, destroyed by the blue, samurai-armored dog that charged at her. It knocked her to the ground, and only because she had called them up at the breaking of the door was she able to get the hammer and chisel between her neck and the dog’s teeth. She had wedged the chisel into its mouth, and their hitting the ground added to the strength of the hammer strike. The creature seized, glowing white eyes going wide, and exploded into gems of blue and solid droplets of black.

She sat and looked at the prizes for only an instant. The next she was on her feet and back to the closet, keeping hold of her chisel as she went. What she found, though, gave her pause. Instead of the t-shirts and shorts that had reigned within the day before, long sleeved shirts, jeans, and three puffy snow coats hung casually inside. When she looked down, she found her sandals had been pushed away in favor of sneakers and fluff-lined boots. A moment of staring was afforded to the new vestments before she tugged a coat and a pair of boots into her sylladex. Just as quickly, she stripped and pulled on dry clothes. Clad in blue jeans, a long, light violet shirt, and sneakers, she left her room.

Hugh was sitting in the hall outside, his laptop propped on his knees. He remained still when their eyes met, and he did not look away. He twitched his thumb toward the screen. “I finished fixing up all the burned spots.”

“Okay. So, thanks.”

“And I’m sorry about swearing before.”

“I—oh.” She blinked, almost took a half step back, and instead stepped forward. “Um. I’m...still mad. But not about the swearing. That’s okay.”

He chuckled, tapping his thumb on the top of the screen. “I guess so, since you kept saying ‘fuck.’”

A long silence came before she spoke again. “Hey, I just found a ton of winter clothes in my closet. They weren’t there yesterday.”

“Seriously? There’s just a bunch in there now?” He blinked and shot to his feet. “Hey! We should alchemize them with the clothes you’re in! That way you can strife without a puffy coat getting in the way!”

She smiled slightly. “I thought that’s what we should do. I just got attacked in my room, and it sucked enough in my normal clothes.”

“You got attacked? By what?”

“A blue dog in samurai armor.”

He blinked again, reeling back. “Oh. At least that’s normal. Vita prototyped some armor her dad had.”

“Her dad had samurai armor just lying around?”

“Yeah.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Okay, moving on. Let’s just go alchemize stuff.”

He grinned, shifted the computer away, and reached for her hand. He stopped and patted her shoulder before turning away. “Come on. I moved the cruxtruder and deployed the punch designix, so everything’s on the sixth floor. Of, um—” He flicked his fingers up to count. “—ten, now.”

She opened her mouth and closed it. Shaking her head, she said, “Okay, let’s go.”

They made their unimpeded and uninterrupted way to the sixth floor. The chill wind blew through the open area, and Amie shivered in her thin clothes while Hugh explained the purpose of the designix: punching through cards to allow their contents to be used in alchemy. Grudgingly, anxiously at first, she gave over the captchalogue cards containing the puffy coat and her current shirt and watched him type in the codes on the back. They were punched through, and he slotted both into the lathe with a fresh dowel in the chucks. It produced a totem sloping from fat in the center to narrow at both ends, and he ferried it to the alchemiter with a grin.

The shirt that appeared on the platform was visually identical to the shirt on her shoulders, but when she took hold of it and checked its title in the sylladex, she found it was called the Puff-free Wondertop. Shifting into it instantly relieved the cold suffused in her skin, and she grinned as broadly as Hugh when she dashed back down the stairs with ideas swarming in her head.

\-------  
Ally with the Thief of Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typing quirks? They nearly broke my fingers. And yet, I'm excited to do more.


	4. adeptTraducer

Your name is LIAM TIERNAN and you are HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE.

You’ve been powering through the HORDES OF UNDERLINGS in your path and rocketing up your ECHELADDER for your victories. You’re on your way to the LAND OF SNOW AND CRYSTALS with VITA HIROYUKI at your side. Even without the aid of your server player, you’ve found WAYS to get off the LAND OF BLAZE AND STONE.

You have discovered that you can BEND ENEMIES TO YOUR WILL, thanks to the CONTACT that messaged you the moment you entered the INCIPISHERE.

—reset rewind: 50 minutes ago—  
\-------  
—contemptuousCavalier [CC] began trolling adeptTraducer [AT]—

CC: Well Then.  
CC: I Take It That You’re The ‘Of Mind’ For This Session.  
CC: Is That Correct?   
AT: whoa what  
AT: who the hell are you?   
CC: As Charming As My Session’s ‘Of Mind,’ I See.   
AT: man you need to tell me who you are  
AT: i think im gonna be busy here   
CC: Oh, You Will Be.  
CC: But We Need To Talk.  
CC: Have You Been Contacted By Anyone Else?   
AT: you mean by some random jackwagon like you?  
AT: no   
CC: Excellent. I Got To You Before She Did.   
AT: ok for real  
AT: tell me who you are or imma block your ass   
CC: Very Well.  
CC: I Am Mahima Virote, Sylph Of Blood.  
CC: I Am Contacting You In The Hopes That I Can Prevent Our ‘Of Mind’ From Negatively Influencing You.  
CC: You Must Be On Your Guard Around AnlaceAgent.   
AT: who?   
CC: Devaki Rapoto.  
CC: The Grand Highblood Of Our Generation.  
CC: The Rogue of Mind.  
CC: And My Kismesis.   
AT: wow  
AT: what the fuck  
AT: at least youre a dedicated jackwagon  
AT: you gave me a fake name and everything   
CC: Excuse Me?   
AT: yeah ok  
AT: youre a good troll  
AT: weird type and big damn story  
AT: but i dont have time to get trolled   
CC: I Will Inform You Now That Placing A Block On My Handle Will Accomplish Nothing.  
CC: I Am Not Attempting To Troll You.  
CC: I Am Making A Concentrated Effort To Help You.   
AT: why am i supposed to believe that?   
CC: Because Rapoto Is Going To Be The Cause Of Death For One Of Your Allies.   
AT: what  
AT: youre a fucking liar  
AT: no ones here other than us  
AT: were alone and im going to make sure none of us die  
AT: you fucking get me?  
AT: dont you say shit like that   
CC: Would That I Had The Powers Your Aspect Grants You, I Would Force You To Believe Me.   
AT: no  
AT: you just turned into a shitty troll   
CC: Based On How Upset You’re Getting, I’d Say I’m Being A Very Successful Troll.  
CC: But That Is Not My Intent.  
CC: Rapoto Is Going To Be The Death Of Your Seer Of Void.  
CC: She Will Kill Amie Laurent.  
CC: I Have The Means To See Future Events, And I Have Seen Laurent Die At Her Blade.   
AT: no  
AT: you  
AT: what no  
AT: theres no way you can see the fucking future  
AT: Amies not gonna die  
AT: fuck you   
CC: Please Stop.  
CC: I Want To Help You Stop Her.   
AT: and why the fuck would you do that?   
CC: She Is My Kismesis.  
CC: I Hate Her To The Blackest Depths You Can Reach.  
CC: Any Opportunity To Ruin A Plan Of Hers Is One I Will Take.  
CC: You Can Accept My Help And Advice And Work To Save Your Friend.  
CC: Or You Can Refuse And Allow Her To Die.   
AT: ...  
AT: ok  
AT: fine  
AT: school me  
AT: what do i need to know?   
CC: How To Tap Your Power As The ‘Of Mind.’   
AT: thief of mind?   
CC: Precisely.  
CC: You Are Her Countertype, Gifted With The Same Power.  
CC: I Will Teach You Of The Mindgrip.   
AT: so  
AT: mind control?   
CC: Yes. But She Has Had This Power Since Birth.  
CC: You Will Need To Train Extensively To Come Close To Being Able To Combat Her.   
AT: nothing im better at than training my fucking ass off   
CC: Excellent. Let’s Begin.

“What does it mean when the sky flashes?”

Hugh looked up from the designix, leaving his fingers on the keyboard. “What?”

“The sky flashed,” Amie said. “Twice, just a second ago. It looked like the sky changed colors.”

“What colors?”

“Gold and green.”

He paused, but came away from the machine to stand at the floor’s edge beside her. He looked up, peering at the purple epicycloid forms above. They shifted in design lazily, turning as they went. The sky remained gray.

“I’m not sure,” he said. He looked down and his eyes widened. “Oh wow.”

“What?” She looked down and froze. Underlings were gathering in a swarm below: lumbering giants with armor on their shoulders, wide mouthed and long bodied creatures with swept back horns, and innumerable imps with both dog heads and masked faces. They drew in slowly, and those closest began to climb the walls.

“Amie?”

“What?”

“Which chisel do you have equipped right now?”

She pulled the hammer and chisel from her deck. The hammer’s head was colored in bright splatters of red, gold, and blue, and the chisel’s body was clear to show the dancing plasma within. “The Firestorm Chisel.”

“Fantastic.” He took out twin wrenches, colored in the same fanciful fashion as her hammer. “Jubilation Wrenches for me.”

“Wait, are you saying we’re going to strife? With _all_ of them?”

“We’ve got no other choice.” He grinned and bumped his shoulder against hers. “C’mon, don’t you want to test that thing? You were so jazzed when you brought that plasma ball up and made me give you my fireworks card. It’ll be bitchin’.”

“But there’s a ton of them.”

“You beat an imp with just your normal chisel, remember? You’ll be fine. Besides,” he said as he twirled his wrenches in his fingers, “you’ve got a guy with ten levels on you at your side. We’ll kick ass.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, stepping to the very edge and looking at her. “Come on!”

Before she could respond or react, he reached back, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her with him when he jumped off the building. There wasn’t even a moment to scream, because a masked imp leaped from the wall with a drawn sword aimed toward her neck. A backhanded swing of the hammer made edge meet blunt force, and the spark of metal on metal she expected was replaced by a starry explosion that flung the imp back against the wall. Only a short distance more was passed in freefall; an ogre caught hold of her in the air. It brought her close and roared in her face, its mouth all gleaming white fangs. She jammed the chisel into the ogre’s hand and swung the hammer down. Another explosion cracked the stony carapace, letting the purple lightning that arced from the chisel into the flesh below. The ogre shrieked aloud and its hand convulsed around her. The tightened grip made her bones creak, and she slammed the hammer down three more times. With another shriek, the ogre ruptured, and she fell into the snow with the grist that was left behind.

It no longer a terrible thing to sink into the snow with the Wondertop and Frostjeans, and she was able to rush to her feet with the Fluffy High-tops protecting her toes. She dodged a throwing star and ran at the offending creature. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh leap high into the air at a horned basilisk with his wrenches above his head. They cracked against the underling’s head as Amie drove her chisel into the imp’s chest. The explosion broke through the carapace, but the lightning spread to the small imps that had sprinted in and stunned them. Another pound at the imp sent a greater burst of lightning out, and as the basilisk shattered under Hugh’s wrenches, the imps broke apart.

Immediately, a new wave started toward them. Though she had thought she would tire within moments, unaccustomed to real strife as her arms were, a surge of strength washed down her body and let her jump at the next hound imp with a growing smile. Even when she was knocked down by a blow to the back, she returned to her feet and the fight without hesitation. As enemies were mowed down, ruined by wrenches and carved apart by a chisel, her speed increased. Her arms swung harder; her hands gripped tighter. Her breathing started to deepen. Her throat began to ache.

Amie kept battling. She felt the muscles in her right arm seize around the stitches; heat surged and spread into the bandages wrapped there. An ogre snatched her up, tossed her into the air, caught her by the legs, and hurled her into a cloud of imps. She rolled over a horned head and felt the sharp tips dig into her back before hitting the ground. Her body sprang up and her arms smashed the chisel into one imp and the hammer into another. The explosion rocked her in one direction, and the lightning made her fingers tingle. Without sensing anything behind her, she spun on her heel and jumped to a basilisk advancing on Hugh. He swung his wrenches down on its face and she hit the back of its skull with a full blown strike to the chisel.

They hit the ground at the same time, Hugh grinning madly. He lifted one hand, the wrench disappearing as he waited for a high five. The moment was ruined when he was tackled by a larger hound imp and she was jerked backward by an ogre. Before she could be fully thrown, the ogre roared and dropped her. She turned to see her sprite with his arms raised. In bursts of violet, chunks of granite were summoned and flung at the ogre. It rose to its feet with another howl, but a chunk crashed into its open mouth and returned it to the ground. She ran to it, meaning to strike its chest. Her legs launched her further, and the chisel sank into its glowing eye.

She wanted to reel back, wanted to stop, but her legs stood frozen. At a shrieking howl, she looked up. A hound imp was charging at her, panting with its tongue hanging out. Grimacing, she wanted to retreat; her legs remained frozen. Well before the imp could reach her with its outstretched arms, a ball ended chain whipped out, wrapped around it, and wrenched it to one side. She turned and found the same black-clad young man that had been on her screen nearly an hour ago. He pulled hard and swung the flaming sickle at the other end of the chain harder. The imp’s head parted from its body and the grist flew past him. He gave her a brief smirk before catching the ball and flinging it at a nearby ogre. It caught its horn, and he pulled himself from the ground when it was tightly wrapped.

Amie felt someone come to stand at her back, and she looked over her shoulder. At first, all she could see was the long, shining black hair of the person there. They turned, and she saw the broad smile on the taller woman’s face. It was a smile she had seen in many pictures sent with stories of trips and rallies, and she returned it instantly. The woman spun a wooden sword before her and started away with a cheerful laugh. With one more push that was not her own, Amie followed after her.

\-------

“Oh ow. Jesus, _ow_!”

“You big damn baby, hang on a minute.”

Amie went quiet, but grimaced as Vita rolled up her sleeve and peeled off the stained bandages. The stitches had popped and the skin had shorn; ragged edges of flesh still wept blood.

“Holy _crap_ ,” Vita muttered. “How hard were you swinging that thing around?”

“Enough to bust motherfuckin’ heads,” Liam said. Though he sat low in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, he gave her a grin. “Gotta give you props, strife-newbie. That was pretty awesome.”

“Here, hang on,” Hugh said. He had come back from the kitchen with clean towels in hand, and plucked something from his sylladex as he walked to the duo on the couch. He held out his hand, revealing a bright blue piece of hard candy. “Eat it. It’ll fix you up.”

“What is it?”

“Healing candy. It’s what Liam gave me when my leg was broken.” Vita folded the bandages haphazardly, setting them to one side on the floor. “Go on. It tastes fine, and it’ll heal everything by the time it’s gone.”

She grimaced again when she reached out to take the candy, but put it in her mouth dutifully as she took hold of the towels. Sitting back, tasting the cotton candy flavor spreading on her tongue, she pressed gently on the wound and sighed.

A long while of silence passed, tinged with awkwardness. When it was broken, it was with Hugh’s quiet voice saying, “Hey.”

“What?” Liam asked.

“Hey—look.” He smiled and straightened where he stood. “We’re all finally together. Years of chatting and this is the first time we’ve gotten to see each other in real life.” He turned to Amie and snickered. “You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“And you’re like a boxer for god’s sake,” Amie replied. A giggle of her own made its way from her mouth. “You’re this big square guy, man. No wonder you can kick so much ass with _wrenches_.”

“Hey, any sucker can wail on a guy with wrenches,” Liam said. “Takes fuckin’ _skill_ to use a kusarigama and not take off your own head.”

“Is that seriously what it’s called?” Amie asked.

“Man, bite me. You gonna give Vita crap for her sword’s proper name being ‘bokken?’ I don’t think so.” He smirked. “At least we’ve got real weapons in our decks. You’ve got a chisel, for fuck’s sake. Next thing you know we’re gonna be sipping blends from your fancy cappuccino maker with our berets on, arty snob.”

Hugh and Amie both opened their mouths to reply, but their words were beaten to the air by Vita’s. “Actually, I know what we’re going to do next.”

“What’s that?” Liam asked.

She turned to Hugh, gaze calm. “You’re going to explain these dreams of yours. The ones that told you to make us play this insane game and blow up the world.”

Liam’s brows shot into his hairline. “What?” He sat up with a jerk, leaning toward Hugh. “Hey, is she serious? Did your dreams make you do that?”

“No.” He sighed, ran one hand through his hair, and started to pace. “Look, no. My dreams didn’t _make_ me do anything. They don’t work like that. They—” He faltered in a step, heel digging into the floor. “Do you guys know anything about your dreams? Like if you ever had a dream that kept happening?”

“No, man,” Liam said. He sat back slowly, crossing his arms once more. “I don’t dream. Fuckin’ ever.”

“That’s crap,” Vita muttered. “You’ll go nuts if you don’t dream.”

“Okay then, smartass. What do you dream about?”

She paused, looking at the floor. “I don’t know. I just see colors. Bright ones.”

“That’s how my dreams started,” Hugh said. “It got brighter and brighter—and then I woke up.” He smiled, looking at the ceiling. “I really woke up in a dream, and I was in this gold room.” He began to pace again, but slowly. “I was on this whole different _planet_. I went outside, and there were a ton of white skinned people. Not even skin—they’ve got this hard skin like bugs. Like all the underlings we’ve been fighting. And I started seeing things in the clouds.”

Silence came paired with hard stares all round. He did not stop pacing because he did not look at them. “They aren’t around all the time. They only come around when the planet comes close to this bright blue star in the sky. But I’ve been seeing things for years.” He gestured vaguely. “They’re actually the reason I started messaging you guys. And that made me really happy, because you’re the best friends I’ve had. It’s the reason I’ve been dealing with my dad being...gone all the damn time. So, when they started showing me this game, I was _really_ excited about getting into it.”

He grinned. “It was like—we could get away from all the stupid ass things our parents wanted us to do. My dad wants to go into business, but—but I want to be a leader, and here I am, Heir of Time. And you guys! We’re supposed to be heroes! We’re _gonna_ be heroes! We’re this awesome team! My dreams always told me that!”

He stopped and turned to them, his smile growing smaller. “I knew you’d freak if I said the game was going to blast the hell out of the planet and we’d have to fight all these imps and stuff. And I knew you’d say no because—” He laughed. “Because who the fuck wants to be the last people from Earth and fighting all the time?

“So...so I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything about this. But I’m really, _really_ sure that we can do this. Even if I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen now with all these weird new underlings and—things that aren’t underlings and screwing with our game.”

“ _What_?”

He looked at Liam, blinking at the anger that twisted his face. “Huh?”

“ _What_ not-underlings?” he asked. “No one told me about these goddamn game fuckers. What’re they doin’ here?”

“They threw us off a roof,” Amie said. “Didn’t actually hurt, but it scared the hell out of me.”

“Okay, didn’t hurt _you_ ,” Hugh said. “My head still aches.”

“You. Got thrown off a roof.” He sat up and looked at the floor. He brought his hands together, clenching one fist in the other. “What’d that thing look like?”

She hesitated, but pointed her thumb over her shoulder at empty air. “Kinda like my sprite. Like a troll out of a story.”

His eyes flicked up to hers and held her gaze. She faltered at the way he stared, brows low and dark gold eyes steady. “You sure?”

“Well, yeah. She looked at me and smiled. I saw her—weird-ass candy-corn horns and everything.”

“ _Her_. It was a chick.” He looked to the floor. Swiftly, he rose to his feet, jammed his hands in his jean pockets, and started toward the door.

“Liam—man, wait!” Hugh reached out to take Liam’s elbow in hand, but was thrown off in an instant. With a quick glance back, he followed the other man out the door and slammed it shut behind them.

A moment passed, and Vita asked, “What the hell was that about?”

Amie said nothing for a long while. She swallowed and took the towels from her arm. Her brows rose at the sight of clean, healed skin. “Wow. I didn’t think that’d really work.”

Vita sat back with a sigh, putting her hands behind her head. “I told you it fixed my leg.” She stared at the ceiling, a frown growing on her face. For a time, she tapped one foot on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in a freaky game with things that want to fucking eat us.” She shrugged. “Now there’s something that’s probably insane running around wanting to kill us even more.”

She looked at the shorter woman beside her from the corner of her eye. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about at all.”

“Yeah.”

With another sigh, she reached down to drum her fingers on Amie’s head. “So. Why’d Liam freak like that about that monster? He only got worried when he heard that it tossed you off the roof.”

“I don’t...really want to talk about it.”

“C’ _mon_.” She rubbed at her hair and smiled. “I’m your best girlfriend. You can tell me whatever. What’s going on between you and Liam?”

“Can you get your hand off my head first?”

She curled her fingers back to her palm in a heartbeat and brought the loose fist behind her head again. “Oh. Sorry, I do that to everyone.”

“Pet them?”

“No, just kinda touch them.” She snickered. “I think I like petting people, though. Feels like I’m connecting more.” With a low exhale, she said, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, sweetie.”

“It’s okay.” She pulled her feet off the floor and brought her legs to her chest. “My mom and I don’t really hug or anything, and it’s not like I’ve ever had a real girlfrie—” Her mouth snapped shut and she put her face against her knees. Her muffled words were still intelligible when she said, “Oh _fuck_ forget I said that. Fuck fuck _fuck_.”

Vita burst out laughing, legs rising as she wrapped her arms over her stomach. She laughed so hard she began to cough; she folded in half to try and calm her chest. A full minute passed before she could stop, and she had sat up to wrap Amie in a tight hug by the time she did. “Oh my _god_ , sweetie! You’ve totally gotta chill about that!”

“No no no no. I take it back immediate take-backs you didn’t hear _anything_.”

The laughter returned, and she pressed her face to Amie’s shoulder to muffle it somewhat. Amidst snickers, she said, “Sweetie, why do you think _I’d_ get worked up over you being—what, is it bi or gay?”

“I’m not saying anything else. This conversation is not happening.”

The words let Vita stop laughing, and she brought her legs up to cross them on the couch. Looking down, she tapped her knee on Amie’s foot. With her shoes off, she could feel how tightly curled her toes were. “Yeah, it is. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. This isn’t happening.”

“Hey, you want me to tickle you? Swear to god I will, Laurent. Right to death, unless you tell me why you _finally_ outing yourself to me is making you lose your shit.”

“I said nothi—” Her head rose. “What, ‘ _finally_?’”

“Yes, finally.” She loosened her hug, but kept one arm around her shoulders. “You’re always way interested when I talk about the gay rights movement rallies I go to, even though you know how completely straight I am. And you act so nervous and uncomfortable when I talk about what kind of guy I’d like my husband to be one day, even though I never _ever_ ask why you use ambiguous words to describe what you’d want.” She squeezed her shoulder. “Sweetie, I like goofing off, but I’m not dumb. You know that. So. Really, hand over my hippie heart, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

A long pause. “I’m gay.”

“Oh, that’s not wrong and you know that, too.”

“Tell my ‘it’s just a phase every artist decides to go through’ mother that.”

She reeled back. “Are—are you for fucking serious?” A groan left her as she gave her another squeeze. “Christ, I knew you had problems with your mom and the art thing, but come on. She’s gonna go with the phase thing?”

“She said the art thing was a phase first.”

Three blinks came before a stare filled with disgust. “What—what—oh _bullshit_! I have _seen_ your art! You sent me an amazing painting for my last birthday! Every single one of my friends who saw it said they wanted to commission you for god’s sake! My _dad_ likes it, and he hardly ever goes for anything that’s not from Japan!”

“I didn’t know he liked it.”

“Well he _does_. Because you’re totally awesome at art and your mom’s wrong about everything. Most of all you being in a phase.” She put her hand back on Amie’s head, gently rubbing her fingers on her hair. She heard an inhale, but said, “I know, I know. I’ll stop soon.”

“I don’t...it feels weird to get touched.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just really need to hang onto you right now.”

“What? Why?”

“Sweetie, I just _do_. I don’t want you to freak, and if I freak you will too. This is how I don’t freak out. I hold people. And I really feel like I need to hold you and you need me to hold you.” She smiled, laying her hand flat on her head. “Because see? It’s totally cool if a straight girl hugs you. And it’s totally cool if you have a crush on a straight girl.”

“Hey what _no_ —”

“Pfft. Please, sweetie.” She tapped her on the head and grinned when she was looked at. “Like you wouldn’t. I’m awesome. I get it. I know you’re not some spaz who’d attack me and try to turn me or whatever. It doesn’t freak me out, and it doesn’t make me mad.”

“So it doesn’t make you mad to know that I’d like to kiss you?”

“Nope. You _can_ , but only on the cheek.” She smirked, turning her face to one side. “G’head.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.” She closed her eyes, raising her brows slightly, and continued to smile. When the kiss was delivered by warm, chapped lips, she patted Amie’s head once more. She did not laugh at the dark blush on her face when she drew back, instead tapping her cheek once. “See? No problems at all with me.” With a final rub at her hair, she brought her arm away from her shoulder, returned it to her lap, and leaned gently against her. “So tell me what the problem is with Liam.”

“I think he likes me,” she said.

“And since you nearly had a full-blown panic attack by outing yourself to a _hippie_ , there’s no way our favorite angry guy knows you go for girls.”

“Yeah. We don’t ever talk about stuff like that.”

“What do you guys talk about?”

“Our parents, a lot. He says talking to me about art calms him down after fighting with his dad.” She shrugged. “And I like hearing him talk about his martial arts stuff when my mom’s been bugging me.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t chat with me about that. Not to calm down, anyway.”

“I know. But it makes me feel better when I listen to you about your rallies and projects, or when Hugh talks about his volunteering and stuff he’d like to do. Liam’s not special.”

“Does he know that?”

Amie took a slow breath. “I haven’t ever said he’s _not_ special. But that’s because you’re all my friends.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Vita sighed and reached out to take her hand. “You need to tell him that he’s not going to find anything if he comes after you.”

“I know.” She turned her hand over and laced their fingers together. “But I don’t think I can do it right now when he’s so freaked out without making it worse on him.”

“Don’t worry. Even if he gets upset, I can kick his ass and make him knock it off.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. I can totally kick his ass. So don’t freak out about this, all right. Right now, we’ll let him be angry about that thing out there, and then we’ll all kick its ass when we come to it.”

“Hers.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, her. Deal?”

Amie smiled. “Okay.”

\-------

The thought of using mind control on his friends made him sick to his stomach, and so Liam argued with Hugh as they went away from the house. He kept his hands jammed in his pockets and did not look at the other man. He spoke between tight lips, and his words grew sharper and darker until he almost snarled them through his teeth.

“Bud, I have no idea why you want to do this alone right now!”

“What level are you?”

“Huh?”

“What fuckin’ level are you, Tanner? What, like ten or some shit?” He twitched his head to one side. “I’m almost to level twenty. I’ve been slamming fuckers down right and left, and I’m going up no matter what. I’m winning, okay?”

“We’re all doing something to get better,” Hugh said. “You’re not the only one winning.”

“Then I’m playing best.”

He sighed, letting his breath sink into a growl. “Liam, _chill_. That thing attacked me, too. It—Christ, it _laughed_ at me. Grabbed my shirt, lifted me off my feet and laughed in my face, and threw me off the roof. It took out this insane snake in one attack. And you want to take it on _alone_? We don’t even know how many levels we can go up, and we don’t know how strong it really is.”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Liam finally looked at him; he looked from the corners of his eyes. “You get trolled yet?”

“What?”

“Vita got trolled, and she told me Amie got trolled. Each time they got told something about the game. That’s why Vita grilled your ass about these dream things. There’s people out there who know something. They know about what’s going on.”

“So—what? Did you get trolled?”

He neither smiled nor frowned when he said, “Nah. I got taught.”

“About _what_.”

“’Bout this game, man. About what we’re supposed to do. What _I’m_ supposed to do. And right now? I’m supposed to be the one staying here and figuring shit out.” He paused and turned to face Hugh. “Look. I’m, I’m not trying to be a huge asshole. I really know what I’m doing. I don’t want Amie to get hurt, and I don’t want you to get hurt ‘cause of me. I can take care of myself. I know I can.”

“What do you want me to do then? Just go back to my planet and let you run around here looking for a fight?”

“It’s what you all do anyway.” He smirked. “That’s how I like it.”

For a long while, he stared. He made as though he would step forward. He made as though he would retreat. His thumbs tapped against his thighs. He ran his hand through his hair. Finally, he held his hand in the air and looked at Liam’s face. “Okay. Fine. You go show me that you don’t need help with this. But you fucking listen. You tell me the minute you need help. I’m not going to let us start breaking up when we just started. You’re with us, man. Get it?”

Slowly, he nodded once. “Got it, boss man.”

“Good.” He turned, but smiled faintly. “Smartass.” He started away toward the house and the gates hanging in the sky with a wave over his shoulder.

Liam watched him go before continuing on deeper into the hills and snow. He made clear footprints, picking his feet up neatly. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunching his shoulders far more out of habit than out of the need to protect against the buffeting wind and kisses of snow. All along his way, he went alone. No underlings broke the silence to ambush him; no swarms surrounded him as he strode into valleys of crags. The dead dawn gave little defined light, and he had no real shadow under the gray sky.

He stopped in the middle of nothing. There was breath hissing against his neck. He did not whip around, did not clap his hand to his neck with a shout of shock. He took his hands slowly from his pockets and turned just as slowly. The footsteps he had left stretched into a distance he could not see the end of, and for all that unending length, there were footsteps matching his pace for pace. When he turned back, he expected enough not to leap backward in shock.

The gray skin of the woman’s face almost matched the sky, darker by only a few shades. The hood of her cloak was down, bunched around her neck, revealing the scraggly, truly unkempt black hair hanging round her thin face and small glasses. Her lips parted slowly in a widening smile, and her long incisors were paired with a fine set of fangs. At the center of her yellow eyes, indigo irises stared out at him. When her teeth parted, hissing flickered out between them to begin a soft chuckle.

Liam punched himself in the face so hard he toppled from his feet. Lip split by his teeth, he tried to push himself up on his elbows. He found the woman crouched over his legs, her right hand resting gently on her temple. Heart leaping to the center of his chest, he brought both hands to his head and sent out his mind.

She looked at him a moment, eyes half closing. He could feel the edges of a mind before him, but it was liquid and impenetrable for it. There was no grip to be had, and his touch was violently rebuked. He punched himself again, this time in the nose. He rolled his body over and scrambled out from beneath her, but turned a somersault that shoved his face and bloody nose into the snow. Coughing, sputtering, he fell on his back.

Her hand grabbed hold of his face. His legs and spine twisted, forcing his knees beneath him and his back to arch. She did not pull him up with her hand; his body followed her up. Still chucking her sibilant noise, she came with him as he stood up fully. She stepped close enough that he could feel her breasts against his back. Then a wire cut out inside his skull and he fell into deep, dark sleep.

—anlaceAgent [AA] began trolling adeptTraducer [AT]—

AA: Virote.  
AA: I can almost feel her filthy fucking hands all over your mind.  
AA: I don’t care what she’s told you, but I’ve got a good idea what she’s saying.  
AA: Leave it to my kismesis to try to fuck me in every single way.  
AA: She is a damn wonder.  
AA: Understand me, you shitty little thing.  
AA: The Mindgrip is mine.  
AA: It always has been and always will be.  
AA: If you try to use it against me, you will fail.  
AA: It may end in your death.  
AA: You’re going up against a fucking God, after all.

—anlaceAgent [AA] ceased trolling adeptTraducer [AT]—

\-------  
Learn the lore of the Land of Tomes and Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I? I, good readers, have been knighted as a Drama Whore of the First Order. This is a special state, and it is one that I have long been away from. It is with greatest, _deepest_ pleasure that I return to it and find it most accommodating to my return. I _live_ here, though I am known to exercise my dual knighthood as a Fluffy Fool, First Class. For now, I take up my pen-sword and head into the fray of the wild woods.
> 
> I love every last little thing of this chapter. Every. Single. Thing.


	5. Tomes and Ruins

You are the HEIR OF TIME, you are 19 YEARS OLD, and you have just returned to your PLANET. You DID NOT tell the SEER or the BARD where you were going. You DID NOT tell them what the THIEF went to do.

You have returned to the LAND OF TOMES AND RUINS and its silence. There are NO underlings attacking you, FOR A CHANGE. You return to your HOUSE. Your kernelsprite comes to your side. You named him SAMSPRITE, using the name you gave your wolfhound when you were 6 YEARS OLD. Even though he was DEAD for the last year, he’ll come if you call.

You have NO FUCKING CLUE what to do now. HAVE, until that TROLL contacts you five minutes from now.

—advance align: 5 minutes ahead—  
\-------  
—avantGuide [AG] began trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AG: hey there tb  
AG: hows shit going   
GA: Uh.  
GA: Who are you?   
AG: me  
AG: tb you know me   
GA: Maybe you’re messaging the wrong guy.  
GA: Who’s ‘tb’?   
AG: thats you  
AG: youre my time brother  
AG: tb   
GA: Oh Christ.  
GA: I get it.  
GA: You’re a troll.  
GA: Oh fuck, it even says that right in the program.   
AG: course im a troll  
AG: im the emperor tb  
AG: was  
AG: will be  
AG: am  
AG: the damn prince if we want to stay in the game  
AG: but fuck it for now  
AG: whats going on with my four humans   
GA: Wait, what?  
GA: Why are you calling us humans?   
AG: tb  
AG: man  
AG: you are humans  
AG: you want me to call you aliens or something  
AG: shit no  
AG: youre all my people  
AG: just like my trolls here  
AG: might as well be a lil proper  
AG: not like i fucking hate you or anything  
AG: time brother man   
GA: Okay, hang on with the time brother thing.  
GA: Are you telling me that you’re playing this game?  
GA: Are you playing Sburb?  
GA: Are you here in the game with us?   
AG: yeah and no  
AG: im the of time for my session sure  
AG: like you   
GA: What about my session?  
GA: Are you playing a different game or not?   
AG: were in sgrub tb  
AG: different session  
AG: different time  
AG: same basic game   
GA: But  
GA: Wait.  
GA: Do you know anything about this foreign element in our game?  
GA: The thing that looks like a troll.   
AG: well  
AG: yeah and no  
AG: shes a special sort of case  
AG: right now  
AG: all these things are pretty special  
AG: brother were all pretty special   
GA: PLEASE stop rambling.   
AG: you trying to give the emperor orders brother  
AG: i like you humans and all  
AG: but im the king  
AG: no questions no quarter  
AG: you hear   
GA: No, I asked.  
GA: I need you to tell me anything about this troll.  
GA: I know you know something, you just said she.  
GA: You know her.   
AG: yeah  
AG: i suppose   
GA: Oh God.  
GA: You keep calling me brother, but you’re not really helping, you know.   
AG: i know tb  
AG: i cant really  
AG: you and i agreed i shouldnt   
GA: Holy shit, WHAT?   
AG: tb youll get it  
AG: sooner or later  
AG: go talk to your sprite  
AG: lil woofbeast fuckers a good talker  
AG: hell tell you what to do  
AG: what you should  
AG: what you need to  
AG: whats your lore  
AG: all that shit tb  
AG: get going

—avantGuide [AG] ceased trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

Hugh sat on the last lingering trace of how the house had simply once been: the small deck that extended from his bedroom. The banister had been broken in his first strife with underlings, and so he sat at the edge with his feet dangling. Back barely curved, he had his palms on his knees while he looked out at the land. In the far distance, he could see the broken corpses of castles strewn about. Nearer were small buildings left untouched by all but time: the stones constructing them were black and grimy, and there was no reading the banners hanging derelict over the door-less entryways.

A bump came to his shoulder. He turned and saw Samsprite hovering beside him, mouth closed and glowing white and blue eyes fixed on him. With a sigh, he reached out and put his hand on the sprite’s head. The blue fur under his hand was much like the black fur had been in life: short, coarse, and bristly. Now it contained energy, tiny sparks buzzing on the tips of his fingers as he stroked between the sprite’s upright ears.

“So,” he said slowly. “Do you know what I need to do?”

Samsprite regarded him with a tilted head before opening his mouth. In a deep baritone, he said, “Yes.”

“And? What is it?”

“For now, strife.”

“Okay, no, not ‘for now.’ I just got a message from someone playing the same game as us, and he said something about lore. What can you tell me about that?”

The sprite’s eyes flickered, pixels replacing pupils until he blinked. “You are the Heir of Time.”

“I _know_ that, Sam. What am I supposed to do about that _here_?” He gestured toward the dim world beyond the house. “Am I supposed to do something here? Why am I on Lotar?”

“You are here to reclaim time.”

They stared at each other. While Samsprite had no real need to blink, Hugh simply did not.

“You asked,” said Samsprite.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious about your destiny?”

“You just told me to reclaim _time_.”

“Yes. That is your purpose in relation to the war against the Black King and Queen.”

“Wait, _who_?”

Samsprite turned his head upward, long muzzle aimed at the sky. “Do you see the light above us?”

He bent his neck and squinted. Beyond the gates hung a small blue star, gleaming brightly to give what little light there was on his planet. “Yeah. What is it?”

“That is Skaia. It is the battleground of the forces of good and evil. The Black King and Queen lead their army against that of the White King and Queen. Derse against Prospit, as it has always been.”

“Who and what now?”

“The golden moon of Prospit and the moon of Derse beyond the Veil. You are a Prospit dreamer.”

He swung his head around, eyes widening. “Wait, the place I’ve been dreaming about has a name? You know about it?”

“Of course.”

“So—I’m a Prospit dreamer, and Prospit is the white army fighting for good.”

“Correct.”

Hugh grinned, laughed, and clapped his hands together. “I knew it! I _knew_ it! I’m going to help the good guys win! _Fuck_ Derse!”

“The Seer and the Thief are Derse dreamers.”

“What?”

“And Derse is destined to win the war.”

A long pause of silence came as he stared at Samsprite. The sprite eventually looked away from Skaia and met his gaze steadily. He took a breath. “Are you telling me that Amie and Liam are going to be fighting for Derse? They’re going to help them win?”

“No,” said Samsprite. “Their allegiances lie with you and the Bard, as far as I can tell.”

“As far as you can _tell_? Are they fighting for good or not?”

“You are not soldiers in the war for Skaia. Derse will win, regardless of any help or hindrance from its dreamers.”

He rose to his feet, eyes narrowing as he looked down at the sprite. “Then what the hell did I make my friends blow up Earth for if we’re going to lose from the start?”

“You were destined to play this game. You’re not here to determine the nature or fate of good and evil, and you are not here to fight in that war.”

“Then what the fuck _are_ we here for?”

“You four are here for two purposes: to solve the Ultimate Riddle and to perform the Ultimate Alchemy.”

“For what?” He gestured vaguely to a point in the distant sky, neither to Skaia above nor the land below. “Earth’s either completely ruined or gone. You just said evil’s gonna win no matter what, so what does it matter? Why should we care about riddles or alchemy?”

“Because it is the purpose of the game and the goal of its players.” Samsprite rose in the air to meet Hugh’s eyes on equal height. For a moment, he only looked at the man. The moment passed and he began to float away. “For now, you should know that the underlings are setting fire to that library.”

Hugh opened his mouth to reply, but the roar of an explosion sent his words back down his throat. The closest building was burning from the roof down, surrounded by underlings. From the front door spilled bipedal blue turtles, and the underlings surged toward them. The lack of distance allowed him to hear everything: the shrieking laughter of the underlings, the warbling, bubbling noise the turtles produced, the crackling of the fire. Buried beneath it was a shout that was not produced by either side, and he recognized the voice.

As he leaped from the deck, he swung out one wrench. A turning gear unfolded from nothingness to be caught in the wrench’s grasp, and he forced its rotation to stop. The fire’s noise died instantly, the mass of heat no longer writhing and crawling down the building. He held tight to his wrench and dashed forward in space. With a tiny backward twist of the gear, he watched the fire coil back up the building as he ran close. A few degrees further back, and he was able to leap up to a high point on the front wall. He let free the gear when his feet hit the wall, and he shouted to his past self in the distance as loudly as he could when he jumped out at an approaching basilisk.

The creature’s smile warped into slack-jawed confusion as Hugh blipped into currency, both wrenches over his head. It shrieked when he slammed them into its eyes, the firework explosions taking advantage of the soft exposures. The basilisk ruptured into grist, and he landed on the head of an imp that tried to sprint past to a cowering turtle. It crumpled with a surprised dog’s yelp, and he picked up the grist it gave up naturally as his feet came upon it. He made a break for the front door, trying to catch an ogre that was lumbering inside with its sword raised.

A sharp, wild crack rang out from above, and he stopped short in the doorway. The support beams were breaking in the fire, barely there as they couldn’t have been with so much time left to them for rotting. But just as suddenly, the ogre howled and exploded, and Hugh saw himself charging straight at him. He was shoved backward so hard he flew through the air and landed on his back. The beams snapped entirely, and the Hugh that had pushed him was caught beneath the flaming rubble.

 _Oh God_ was his brain. It was the only thing he thought and knew. His arm whipped out to smash his wrench against the turning gear and hold it fast, and his brain existed as _Oh God_. With nothing moving in time but his body with the slamming of his heart, he rose to his feet. He stared at himself: dead with a thick splatter of blood painted in all directions. _Oh God_. His brain expanded abruptly, and his throat filled with painful bile it did not eject.

 _Oh God it’s on all the wood and it’s burning in the fire Oh God my blood is burning_. He tried to breathe; the air did not pass the sick in his throat. _Oh God is this time this IS Time what the fuck I’m dead_. His grip weakened and his hand twitched. The wrench came away from the gear. Though he heard a hissing shriek, he did not turn to look. He was knocked into the air by a whiplash of a basilisk’s tail, flung high and far. All he did was keep his eyes aimed on his body in the growing fire until he could not see it. The heat of the fire faded fast; he began to turn, buffeted by the wind. When he finally looked forward, he was greeted by the sight of his house drawing near.

He half expected to smash through a wall. He hit the ground instead, face first.

\-------

There was no sunrise on the Land of Tomes and Ruins. There was no sunset to precede the sunrise, so it wasn’t surprising to Hugh to find the dark sky above him when he opened his eyes. What was surprising was being on his back in the first place. The dirt that had congealed in the blood from his nose made him gag a moment, leaving a thick crusty mass all over his face as it did. He reached sore arms straight up before bringing them to his nose. He smeared the gunk at first when he scrubbed with his forearms, but the dirt eventually lessened.

When he sat up, he felt as though blood should be leaking from every existing hole in his head for how it pounded. Long enough had passed for his nose to stop bleeding, though, and so he sat with his hands draped stupidly in his lap and his eyes looking out. The library was a pile of ashen ruins. He thought he could see small blue bodies scattered around. Neither slowly nor quickly, he rose to his feet and went back inside. At the same pace, he walked up the stairs and returned to his bedroom. He went to his chair in front of his desk and stared at the computer screen. There were messages waiting for him.

—tirelessGuardian [TG] began pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

TG: hugh!  
TG: oh crap I’m so sorry!  
TG: amie and I were talking all  
TG: shit, can you even say night in the game?  
TG: whatever.  
TG: we were talking so much and I wasn’t paying attention to you!  
TG: I saw you on the ground but you didn’t reply to anything.  
TG: but your sprite made sure nothing attacked you, so I guess you’re going to be safe.  
TG: anyway, you need to pester me when you wake up.  
TG: I need to make sure you’re okay.  
TG: I feel so totally bad not paying attention.  
TG: until you wake up, I’m going to build your house up as much as I can.  
TG: oh man  
TG: I’m gonna have to fight a ton of guys to get the grist we need.  
TG: shit.  
TG: okay, pester me when you wake up.  
TG: I promise to not tell amie or liam that you were in trouble, so pester me.

—tirelessGuardian [TG] ceased pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

He went offline and closed Pesterchum entirely. It was without double-checking his sylladex for a computer that he left his house. He walked in the opposite direction of the burned library, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground.

“Sam?” The sprite was in front of him, but moved to float beside him as he continued to walk. “I really fucked that up.”

“You failed, yes.”

From the corner of one blackening eye, Hugh glared. “I think I liked it better when you just let me hug you when I fucked up.”

“Would you like to hug me now?”

The urge to take a swing at the sprite’s head rose and plunged in the same second, and so he resorted to frowning. “No, man. I want to go back and fix it.”

“You fail to grasp your purpose, Heir.”

“Oh, really? You said I’m supposed to reclaim time. If that _doesn’t_ mean being able to go back in time and stop myself from getting killed because of me, what in God’s name _does_ it mean?”

“The man who died saving you was from a doomed timeline.” The sprite stopped when Hugh did, moving to float before him. “If I were to hazard a guess, your decision to run into the decrepit burning building was the wrong one. He was fated to die because he followed through on that decision, but his actions at the end allowed you to continue in this timeline.”

“Continue _what_?” he shouted. “Fucking up? Getting Hughs from other timelines killed?”

“An Heir inherits. If there are mistakes made, you will inherit the consequences of those as well.”

“Make up your goddamn mind, Sam! You’re telling me to reclaim time one second and then you tell me I’m supposed to take on everyone’s mistakes! Who the hell _does_ that?”

“An Heir. A Hero.” He turned in the air. “If I recall correctly, you were the one celebrating being a Prospit dreamer and saying it heralded your being one of the ‘good guys.’” He turned away entirely. “If you would like to do something beyond strife, I recommend seeking out your consorts.”

“My what?”

“Consorts. The creatures that inhabit this planet.”

“The...those blue turtles that were in the library?”

“Correct.”

“Dude—man, _no_! I’m the screw-up that got a bunch of them killed!”

“I doubt that they’re much bothered by that. There’s been no precedent of anyone successfully protecting them from the underlings, after all.” Turned away as he was, Samsprite did not see the darkening of Hugh’s face, the way his eyes fell to his feet. He made no further statements, instead floating a few feet off before disappearing with an audible blip.

Hugh stood staring at the ground for a long while, hands fisted at his sides. He kept his mouth shut; his tongue did not work over retorts. He took even breaths and looked at the way his scuffed sneakers stood out against the dark ground. When he lifted his head, he sought out the nearest broken building and set forth.

There was no wind on the Land of Tomes and Ruins. There was no sun to bring heat, and so there was none to steal away. The air was still as he moved through it; his heels scrapped on the ground as he walked. The sound of it was gratingly loud, but he still did not pick up his feet properly. He wanted to be heard.

A small turtle popped its head from behind a doorframe, staring at him with enormous black eyes as he came near. It did not run; its expression never changed from dull regard.

“Hey,” Hugh said.

The turtle said nothing.

“Um, look, I came to see if this place was okay.” He rocked up on his toes to look into the dark beyond the creature. He saw nothing, and so settled back on his heels and looked down. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” the turtle said, voice quiet but high.

“Is there anyone else here?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He put his thumbs in his pockets and rocked one knee back and forth. “Well...can you tell me what happened here?”

The turtle looked straight past him. It was stone still. “The denizen.”

“The what?”

“The denizen dwells deep underground,” the turtle said. Its eyes widened behind its glasses. “It killed our king and queen. It set fire to our castles, and now it’s telling all its underlings to stop us from ever fixing anything.”

“Well hang on a second,” Hugh said. “Why don’t you fight back?”

“All of our soldiers were torn apart.”

He took his hands from his pockets and held them up. One he set on his chest and the other he let hover at his side. “You still have to try! I mean, here I am trying to fight the underlings.”

The turtle did not look at him. “You don’t mean anything.”

“I...what?”

“The only one that can help us is the Heir of Time. He’s the only one that can make anything move again.”

“But I—” He faltered. “I...um...I heard the Heir was here.”

The turtle’s head snapped up, eyes losing their terrified shine. “The Heir has arrived? I had heard his herald hound was seen, but is it true? The Heir has finally come to us?” It paused and let out a gleeful laugh. “We can move forward again! The Heir will bring us back to time!”

“Back to time?”

“Nothing ever changes here! We’ve been stopped by the denizen, but the Heir can defeat it! He _has to_!” It laughed again. “Once the denizen is destroyed, we can go back to _living_!” It grabbed Hugh’s free hand and shook it furiously. “Thank you! _Thank you_! I have to tell everyone that our savior is finally here!” It hurried away, plodding as quickly as its stumpy legs and flat feet would allow it.

He stared after it; he watched it disappear over the crest of a nearby hill. He closed his mouth tight and looked back toward the dark building. He opened his sylladex, flicking through his file-fetch until he could pluck out a small flashlight. It was a library through and through, filled with books thick as his palm and covered with a layer of dust and ash. Part of the roof had collapsed, destroying a number of bookshelves and burying their bounty in the rubble. He held the flashlight between his teeth and heaved away the rotten beams.

At first, none of the books he pulled free were useful. Many disintegrated when he tried to pick them up, too old and too worn. Others were written in an entirely different language, all curves and sharp hooks and angles. He threw each over his shoulder with an angry grunt, digging more and more furiously when he was stymied at every turn. When one pile was torn through, he went to another. He kicked aside the books he had thrown away when he moved, and he did not notice the cracks in the checkered floor beneath the pages when he took the flashlight from his mouth.

Had he taken care to note the size of the library, he would have noticed he came to stand at the building’s center. What made him stop was the sight of English flashing black beneath the light, and he crouched down to the small pile that sprawled on the floor. He pushed aside the books with his free hand, digging for the words he had seen. Beneath his feet, tiny cracks spread. When he tossed a heavy book aside, more cracks appeared and reached out to meet the lines spreading from him.

Hugh finally found the book that he had spotted: a thin volume, bound in blue-stained leather with the letter stamped in pure black. “’The Legend of Time’s Heir?’” He turned the book over and found nothing on the back. “There’s seriously a whole legend book?” With a sigh, pulling one corner of his mouth high in weary befuddlement, he shifted his weight and turned the book right side up.

The floor shattered. At the loss of the world under his feet, his hands snapped shut and shoved the items into his sylladex. He began to tilt backward, feet rising as his back sank. Everything became bright as the shattered floor fell away, and he remained perfectly still for a moment. By the time he started to flail, he was already too far from the floor to attempt a grab for it. He did not hear wind as he fell. He heard splashes, and he did his best to roll over in the air.

Below him was an endless ocean. It shone bright from the depths, and giant turning gears cast moving shadows upon the black ground above. Still silent, he continued to roll and looked straight down. He was falling toward a massive gear that was too close. He had no time to fully release his shout before he slammed onto the gear's edge. Choking on air, he felt breaking within his chest. His body oozed from the gear, and his sight was already growing dark when he hit the water.

—avantGuide [AG] began trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AG: ah tb  
AG: tb youre one lucky bastard you know  
AG: having the emperor consider you a brother  
AG: you owe me tb  
AG: dont forget it

—avantGuide [AG] ceased trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

\-------  
Rally the forces of the Land of Flow and Frogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every new chapter makes me learn something new about the character being focused upon, as well as the ancillary characters. This chapter makes me really like Hugh, and all the details from the chats that fleshed out avantGuide in absentia actually _surprised_ me. And when things start surprising me, I know I've got hold of something good.


	6. Flow and Frogs

You are the BARD OF SPACE, you are 18 YEARS OLD, and you’re just about READY TO GO TO WAR.

You DON’T want to go to WAR, of all things. Not really. You used to have a PROBLEM about beating up bullies, but NOT ANYMORE. No, you’re a HIPPIE, through and through. Sure, your FATHER taught you how to KICK ASS, but he taught you to CALM THE HELL DOWN, too. Now it seems that you REALLY NEED TO FIGHT.

You haven’t been in contact with the THIEF in a long while, and no matter how hard you look, you’ve LOST SIGHT of the HEIR on your computer. Neither of them are ANSWERING you. You were worried before you left the LAND OF SNOW AND CRYSTALS, but you’re PRETTY SURE the SEER can take care of herself. As long as she DOESN’T KNOW the boys are MISSING, you can TAKE CARE OF IT.

Wait.

GOD DAMMIT.

You’re getting TROLLED AGAIN.

—frame focus: RIGHT NOW—  
\-------  
—tergiversantChaotic [TC] began trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

TC: sO yOu’Re An AlIeN?  
TC: mAn, I dOn’T rEaLlY sEe It.  
TC: FiNe YoU dOn’T hAvE hOrNs AnD yOu’Re PaLe As FuCk.  
TC: BuT yOu AiN’t ThAt DiFeRrEnT oF a ChIcK.   
TG: oh shit.  
TG: you again.   
TC: aGaIn?  
TC: OhHhHhHhHh.  
TC: We’Ve TaLkEd BeFoRe FoR yOu!  
TC: I gEt It!  
TC: WhAt Up, BaBe?   
TG: ...  
TG: we discussed this last time.  
TG: my name is vita.  
TG: you know that.   
TC: UhHhHhHhHh  
TC: YeAh I dO.  
TC: mY bAd.  
TC: ShIt YoU aRe FiEsTy.   
TG: oh god  
TG: are you hitting on me?  
TG: wait wait wait  
TG: no horns?  
TG: I’m pale?  
TG: what the hell, are you LOOKING at me?  
TG: where the hell are you?!   
TC: HaHaHaHaHaHaHa!  
TC: HeY cOoL yOuR tItS!  
TC: i AiN’t A fUcKiN pErVeRt SnEaK-a-PeEk, BaBe.  
TC: JuSt MaKiN sUrE tO tRoLl YoU rIgHt.   
TG: you’re making me freak out that you can fucking see me right now just to troll?   
TC: YeAh KiNdA.  
TC: bUt I cAn SeE yOu AnYwAy.   
TG: oh what the fuck?!   
TC: HeY, yOu CaN fUcKiN sEe ThE oThEr AlIeNs On YoUr CoMpUtEr ToO!  
TC: dOn’T lOsE yOuR sHiT aT mE!   
TG: wait, what?  
TG: what are you saying?  
TG: that you’re in the game, too?  
TG: you’re not my server player.  
TG: ...are you?   
TC: nAh NaH.  
TC: i CaN jUsT sEe YoU oN mY sCrEeN lIkE tHaT sPaZzY mOtHeRfUcKeR aT cAn.  
TC: HeY, i JuSt WaNtEd To GeT a HeAdStArT oN tRoLlInG yOu FuCkErS.  
TC: bEaT oUt ThAt BiTcH rApOtO.  
TC: mAkEs HeR pIsSeD lIkE nOtHiNg FuCkIn ElSe.  
TC: MmMmMm.  
TC: NoThInG lIkE hEr PiSsEd OfF, bAbE.  
TC: yOu AlIeNs Do BlAcKrOm?   
TG: ...  
TG: oh wow.  
TG: you are just rocketing through all the levels of creepy there are.   
TC: HaHaHaHaHaHa!  
TC: YoU’rE a FuCkIn RiOt, BaBe!  
TC: I’m GoNnA gO mEsS wItH hEr HeAd A bIt.  
TC: WhY dOn’T yOu Go FuCk ArOuNd WiTh YoUr CoNsOrTs AnD hAvE sOmE mOtHeRfUcKiN fUn?  
TC: LoRe It Up An’ ShIt.  
TC: We’Ll HaVe EvEn MoRe To TaLk AbOuT nExT tImE.  
TC: hAhAhAhAhAhA!

—tergiversantChaotic [TC] ceased trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

She closed the window after a moment, sitting back against the wall. On her bed, laptop on her knees, she looked through the chumroll. Only Amie’s handle was bright; Hugh and Liam existed in the same dark as tergiversantChaotic. She opened the Sburb game window once more. No matter where she sent the view, she could not find Hugh. Had she the patience, she might have sat fulfilling her promise: building more and more floors on Hugh’s house. However, after an hour of doing so before, flicking back and forth between the game window and the chat she perpetually left open, she was disinclined to continue. She sat in silence, drumming her fingers on the laptop.

The world outside was bright. From her window, she could see the lake in the distance, gleaming in the light from Skaia. Yet further was the volcano, still utterly befuddling to see. It smoked and steamed, but she had never felt a tremor shake the planet. She set the laptop aside and sat with one leg drawn up to her chest. Chin on her knee, hands around her ankle, she looked and thought of nothing in particular.

However much she wanted to stay and keep watch on her computer, she wanted to leave the house and do something else all the more. Frowning, she fell sideways and landed on her stomach beside the laptop. Pulling it before her, she lay and stared at the chumroll. Nothing changed; no one new came online. Sighing, she patted at the bed with both hands. Two minutes more were given to waiting for something to shift on the computer. Then she sighed loudly and took to her feet.

The alchemiter was to be her destination, but she went first to her desk. All the detritus of the week before still littered the surface. The posters and markers she ignored; the hands-free headset for her cell phone she took and put into her sylladex. It was followed quickly by a pair of sunglasses, and the last thing she took was her laptop. From her basement bedroom she emerged and to her living room she went, where every machine she needed lay in wait.

By then, so many hours in and dozens to hundreds of underlings defeated, grist wasn’t an issue, and neither was mucking up the alchemy. The first few combinations of the cards left lenses replaced by broken computer chips and wires dangling from the temples of the sunglasses, or lenses that spat sparks and an earpiece that wouldn’t stop screaming static. In the end, though, she found the proper order for the cards, and smiled at the Activist-on-the-Go Set. Equipping it set the glasses on her nose, the earpiece tucked in her ear, and the microphone settled on her cheek. She looked down at her hands, biting one lip as she lifted her fingers.

Ethereal firmness caught her fingertips, and she let out a wild giggle. Screens popped open on the large lenses, vivid from so close. Everything was controlled by touch: she opened Pesterchum and the Sburb window with quick taps in the air, and she sought out the chumroll to begin a new chat. Her giggling paused, though, at what she found. Amie had gone offline, profile dark. Again she bit her lip. Still, she opened the chat window.

—tirelessGuardian [TG] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

TG: um  
TG: okay  
TG: testing testing  
TG: oh wow!  
TG: look at that, it’s actually doing it!  
TG: amie, this is so cool!  
TG: I alchemized this new thing with a microphone and a headset so I could just talk for chats and it’s totally working!  
TG: my type’s coming up perfectly!  
TG: and it’s even coming up like I always type...  
TG: that’s kinda weird, but I like it.  
TG: so  
TG: um  
TG: I can give you the captcha codes for the headset and stuff so you can alchemize something like this for yourself.  
TG: that way it’ll be more like talking on the phone, and we won’t have to spend all our time typing.  
TG: the code for the headset’s 37hf021.  
TG: so alchemize what’ll be comfy for you  
TG: and get back to me when you do, okay?  
TG: I’m gonna go and explore my planet, but I’ll stay online so go ahead and just message me later.

—tirelessGuardian [TG] ceased pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

Though she shifted the system down into her sylladex, she left it at the very top. It existed as a ghost on her skin, within reach by another tap of her fingers to the air. Taking to her sandals, she went out into the world and breathed deeply. Soon after arriving, she had gone to the lake and took in its vastness; its width and breadth and depth. She and her sprite walked its circumference in what appeared to be one-sided silence.

It was only when Liam came barging through the gate that she learned that the sprite’s voice, deep and sonorous, was for her ears alone. She called him Mamorisprite, taking from her father the name, Omamori, he had used in referencing the armor. With her decision made, she went away from the lake and called his name aloud. He appeared in silence, as always, and followed at her side with the plates of the armor clacking quietly as his arms moved.

“I got trolled again,” she said.

He cleared the throat that somehow existed in the hollowness of his body; the gruffness made him sound like a bear. “The scoundrel is a persistent one.”

“I guess so,” she said. “I don’t know what his deal is. It’s like he’s forgetting we’ve talked before, but he’s...he’s really more _weird_ than an asshole.” She made a face that blended a sneer and a smirk. “He’s such a creeper sometimes.”

“The creature dares such impudence with you? And you have not chastised him for his repulsive behavior?”

“Hey, I told him he was a creeper. He bugs me, but it doesn’t really piss me off.” A shrug. “Guess I’m trying to do what Dad wants and not get wigged out by losers like him.”

“Hrmm. A wise choice, to be sure.” His hand, shapeless but for the mold of the guard, patted her shoulder. “Even surpassing what would be expected of you as the Bard.”

She smiled. When his hand left, though, her lips returned to evenness. “Um...he said something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Inquire freely.”

“He said something about lore and consorts. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hrmm. Peculiar that the rapscallion has knowledge of the game, is it not?”

“I guess, but whatever. What’d he mean?”

“Each realm is home to creatures that dwell there naturally. They are peaceful things that desire to be left in their peace. However, with the great war on Skaia, the monstrous denizens have had their way. They run rampant, and the consorts suffer for it.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Of course.”

“Why aren’t the consorts doing anything for themselves? They’re still alive and kicking—they should kick at the imps!”

“They are small creatures. Little more than sentient animals.”

“That makes it worse!” Vita said. “If they can think, then they should know better! They shouldn’t let anyone stomp on them—they should fight back!”

“They are few and small against a great swath. Ogres, basilisks. You have seen the sizes those beasts can attain.”

“Yeah, and _I beat them up_. Tiny little hippie from Seattle me, with just a wooden sword. There’s no reason for them to not try.”

“They fear death, child.”

“Well, they’re gonna die anyway if they don’t do anything.” She stopped abruptly, standing on her toes and shielding her eyes from the star sunlight. “Where’s some consorts?” She paused, rocking back down onto her heels. “Um...what _are_ they, again?”

“Iguanas.”

A pause. “Huh?”

“The closest approximation is an iguana from Earth. However, they can speak and walk like any man.”

“That’s...that’s totally weird.”

“You take issue with lizards capable of speech and not with being transported to another plane of existence?”

She pursed her lips and muttered, “Shut up,” quietly. Sighing, she stood on her toes again. “C’mon, seriously, where are they?”

“The consorts often gather near the rivers. If you seek them, search there first.”

“Rivers, got it.” As she started off, she turned to wave back at him. “Pretty sure I’ll be okay talkin’ to the lizards by myself.”

“You have but to call, milady.” He bowed at the waist, vanishing in a flash of green.

With the volcano in the distance and Skaia bright above, the planet was warm. With the lake and the rivers, it was suffused with damp. Droplets of water clung to the grass and washed over Vita’s bare toes as she walked. A very soft breeze broke the surface of the nearest river, making the water glisten in ever-moving cascades of diamond shards. In that brightness, she could see small shapes of dark. Walking on her toes, squinting slightly, she could resolve the shapes into clarity. The iguanas, as promised, were bipedal, green little beings, gabbing around the riverbank. Large yellow sunhats with floppy brims sat on their heads, rustling in the breeze.

Thought she meant to call out in cheerful greeting, one iguana spotted her with her mouth open and words not yet formed. It let out a squeal, arms pinwheeling a moment before it clutched its hat and pulled it down hard over its face. The others spun about and followed suit within seconds, and she stood with her mouth open and one hand lifted for a long while. Bringing in one corner of her mouth to her teeth, snorting out a sigh through her nose, she put her hands on her hips and went to the closest iguana.

“Hey,” she said.

The iguana squealed in a higher pitch than before.

“Hey, c’mon.” She crouched down until she was forced to set one knee on the ground. The iguana shook its head spastically, squeaking when she caught hold of the edge of the hat’s brim. “C’ _mon_. I’m not here to smack you.”

Cautiously, tentatively, the iguana tilted its head up enough to see her face. “R-r-really?”

“Aw, geez.” She smiled. “You guys are so tiny that I’d feel like a jackass for even looking at you meanly. Seriously, stop acting like big wusses.”

The other iguanas began to lift their heads, though they shifted their clawed feet in the sandy mud at the sight of her. The one she knelt by, though, let her take its hat off in stages. It clung to the brim at first, and lifted its arms jerkily as she carried it up. She grinned suddenly and plucked it from the iguana’s hands just as quickly. Bolting to her feet, she plopped the thing on her head and danced backward as the iguana hopped after her and scrabbled at the hem of her shirt.

Snickering, she let the iguana grab her shirt, but rubbed its head when it tugged. “Don’t freak out, I’ll give it back. But first—” She took the brim in both hands, tilting it rather artfully over her face. “How do I look?”

The iguanas stared. They looked to each other in jerks of their heads, flicking back and forth and glancing at her time and again. A tiny smile appeared on the face of the iguana holding her shirt. Grinning all the broader, she crouched down, took the hat off, and flipped it over once before dropping it on the iguana’s head. She put her hands on her knees, balanced perfectly, and tilted her head to one side. “Well?”

The iguana furthest from her spoke up and asked in a shaking voice, “Who are you?”

“My name’s Vita,” she said. “But I guess my title is the Bard of Space.” She held out one hand. “Hi there.”

A louder squealing scream she had never heard in her life. The closest iguana launched itself at her, catching her round the neck with such force that she fell to her rear in the sand. The others clustered around her in an instant, jumping up and down so wildly their hats threatened to fly from their heads. With her hands in the sand, holding her up against the weight of the creature in her lap, she looked up at the sky and blinked. When she attempted to sit up properly and lift the iguana from her, it wiggled out of her grasp and wrapped its arms tightly around her head. She flailed and managed to catch herself on her elbows.

“Ge’off!” she sputtered. She pushed an arm between them and shoved it down into her lap. Coughing, shaking her head, she stared. The iguana’s mouth was split in a massive, utterly dopey grin. “What in the _hellfire_ are you guys freaking out about?”

“You have arrived!” the iguana squealed. “We’ve been waiting for you for so long!”

“You can make everything right! You can make the denizen stop filling the rivers with poison!”

“With—wait, _what_?”

Another piped up. “The denizen is killing the water! We can’t find any water bugs to eat! But you’re here now!”

“Okay, slow _down_ a minute.” She sighed, and her lips curled slightly down. “You guys have seriously been just waiting for someone to come solve your problems?”

Their smiles did not die, but they began to look nervously to each other. The iguana in her lap looked back up at her, hands coming together as if in supplication. “You...you’re the only one with the power to defeat the denizen. It’s said that only the Bard will discover the way to beat him.”

“Look, you’re asking me to take down what you’re saying is the biggest monster there is all by myself. My sprite told me a long time ago that beating the denizen isn’t even the most important thing to do.”

The iguanas started, gasping quietly. They looked to each other once more, whispering in frightened squeaks.

“I mean—no, don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to abandon you guys, but...but I don’t even know what he was talking about when he said that.”

“He speaks of genesis.”

“Huh?”

“The Bard of Space _does_ have another goal.” One iguana, bent and wrinkled more than the others, stepped closer. “You are the creator.”

“Creator of what?”

“All genesis.”

She lifted a brow, sighing through her nose. “Oh, Christ on a pogo stick. This game and its dumbass symbolism.”

“You must create the perfect frog.”

She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, come _on_. What in the hell is that even supposed to mean? Frogs are—frogs are totally dumb.”

Another gasp, much louder than before. “You can’t say that!”

“Uh...why?” She shrugged. “They’re just goofy little squishy things that croak and jump around.”

“But they’re how everything starts!”

“ _What_ everything?”

Instantly, their mouths snapped shut; the one on her lap went as far as to put its scaly hands over its mouth. After a long while, it whispered, “We can’t say.”

“Wha...why not?”

“We can’t tell you your greater purpose.”

“That is seriously stupid.”

“You need to discover it on your own. That’s how Skaia works.”

“You guys can’t even give me a hint?”

They shook their heads as one. The oldest said, “We can’t. We don’t really know what exactly the genesis’s creation means.” It lifted its hands helplessly. “We don’t know how you can defeat the denizen. We don’t know how to find him. We...we don’t even know what your title means. We just know it means you’re our savior, and the creator of genesis.”

Gently, still urgent, the iguana in her lap took her shirt in hand and shook her. “Please. Please? We can’t do it on our own.”

“But I can’t do it on my own either! It’s not like I’m a god or anything!”

Silence.

Vita grumbled a sigh, rubbing the back of her head. “Look. I’m not going to just walk away to do weird things with frogs and leave you alone. I wanna help, but...I’m just gonna say it. You guys need to do something for yourselves. I’m not always going to be here for you.”

“But—why not?”

Her frown grew deeper. “You’re getting stomped on for no good reason. You need to fight back! We _all_ need to do something, okay?

The iguana in her lap was the only one that did not look away. It held its breath a long while, staring at her from beneath the brim of its hat as the others found the ground more engaging. It swallowed hard, got off her lap, and took its hat from its head. Turning the brim this way and that, the iguana swallowed once more and met her gaze. “I’ll help.”

She grinned broadly and held out her fist. “Then you get daps, little guy.”

“D-daps?”

“Make a fist.” It did. “Now bump mine.” It did, and she laughed. “That’s daps. Now you’re my buddy proper.”

“I’m your buddy?”

“Hell yes.” She got to her feet, brushing off her jeans. “We all can be buddies.”

Despite the smile on the creature beside her, the others began to mumble and grumble amongst themselves. They slowly began to draw away. With a snort, the iguana beside her grabbed her hand and held tight. “She’s not wrong!”

Mumbling. Retreating.

“We _should_ do something! If she’s going to create genesis _and_ defeat the denizen, then we can do at least something to help!”

However slowly they did it, the other iguanas still left, shuffling through the wet grass with slick hissing tails. Soon enough, only Vita and the lone iguana remained in the quiet of the river’s noise. The creature sputtered and stamped its feet; its tail made dull thwacks in the sand. Smiling wearily, she crouched down and tapped its nose.

“Chill out, buddy,” she said. “I’m super-excited that _you’re_ still here.”

“But they _should_ be here! You’re right!”

“Aw, c’mon. I am so totally used to getting brushed off when I do my activist thing. I actually got someone to stand up today. That’s huge for me.”

“But...” It frowned, jamming its hat on its head with another indignant sputter.

She laughed. “But nothing, buddy. It’s cool. At least now they can go off and tell other folks that the Bard of Space is here. And that she says to get off your butts and fight back. Things’ll change. Until they do—” She took to her feet and shook the hand wrapped round her own. “We do a lot.”

It did not look at her for a time, head aimed at the ground. When she flicked the hat’s brim, it squeezed her hand; when she started to walk, it followed at her side. She slowed from her normal pace, allowing its two steps for her one not be frantic. They went away from the river, but she did not turn them toward her house.

“Can I ask you something?” Vita said.

“Yeah.”

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Boy.”

She hummed, looking up in thought. When she returned her eyes to the ground, she was smiling anew. “Can I call you Martin?”

He tilted back to look at her, holding his hat to his head as he did. “Uh...okay.”

She snickered. “I can call you your normal name, don’t worry. What is it?”

“We don’t have names.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, I guess your name’s Martin now. Is that okay?”

He stared a moment before returning her smile. “Yeah!”

“So. Martin. You guys said something about frogs. Where all do you keep ‘em?”

“They were everywhere on the planet, once. But the denizen and its underlings have poisoned so much of our water that it’s hard for the frogs to breed and live.”

She groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay, this denizen guy is a total asshole. You’re making me _want_ to go kick his ass first.”

He closed both hands around hers, tugging at her arm and forcing her to halt. “No, you can’t! Not so soon!”

“Cool your jets, buddy,” she said, patting her free hand on the air. “I’m a righteous ass-kicker. I’ll be okay.”

“ _No_!” He tugged at her even harder. “No no _no_! No matter what you do, you _can’t_ fight the denizen until the end! I’ll do everything I can to make everyone understand and to help you, but you have to promise to not try and fight him now!”

She hesitated in opening her mouth, and it was because of that hesitation that a loud, booming voice broke into their conversation.

“Yo babe, _fuck_ that noise!”

Her head snapped up. The voice’s owner stood at a distance that could barely be considered far. She could see the holes in his faded black jeans, and the frayed edges that spoke of how his black shirt had once had sleeves. Many of the buttons had popped, and the cloth fluttered to reveal a chest almost entirely devoid of muscle. He danced from foot to bare foot, hands crammed in his pockets. His black hair was upswept and short, and she could see the massive curling horns she had seen only on rams before. His skin was gray, and in his grin she could see a mouth full of teeth that could rival a shark’s.

“Man, I told you to go fuck _around_ with them, babe!” he said. “Never said shit about lettin’ ‘em make you be a fuckin’ baby wriggler coward!”

She stared. Her mouth remained open.

He laughed, throwing back his head as the sound rattled out of his chest. When he let his hysterics calm to giggling, he lifted a hand out of his pocket and brought it near his temple. “Babe, back when I was just barely level ten I was goin’ around and fuckin’ throwin’ shit at my denizen!” He snapped his fingers, and a writhing flame of purple surrounded his hand. He parted his fingers only to curl them into a claw, and the flame shot into the air above his palm. With another wild laugh, he brought his hand back and threw the fire.

Vita grabbed Martin and dodged. The flame, though, smashed into the ground far away from where they had once stood, rending the grass into ash and char. She stared at the man, eyes wide and brows knitted, and stood straight. Gently, she put her hand on Martin’s head.

“You go back to my house,” she said quietly, “and you find Mamorisprite. Tell him...tell him that he needs to make sure nothing happens to you or anyone else.”

“But—”

“C’mon, I already told you I’m a righteous ass-kicker.” She snapped her fingers and caught her wooden sword when it fell out of nothingness. “I’ll figure out a way to handle him.”

He bounced his eyebrows and cooed, “ _Ooooh_ , babe. You are so damn _feisty_! Gotta fuckin’ love that in a chick!”

“The lord Jesus Christ above, if you’re seriously who I think you are, you are totally hitting every creeper button there could possibly be.”

He spread his lips in a wide smile to show every pearly fang possible. “And who do you think I am?”

“The guy whose ass I’m about to beat.”

“I am _shakin_ ’ in my pants, babe.”

She frowned. “How many times am I gonna have to tell you that my name’s—”

“ _Vita_.” He snickered, lifting both hands and shrugging. “I know, I know. But you know my name, right? We should start this off right!” He began to dance from foot to foot once more. “Kijani Nijole, at your motherfuckin’ service!”

“Vita Hiroyuki, at the service of beating the shit out of you.”

He laughed, bouncing up and down. “ _Yes_! Here we motherfuckin’ _go_ , babe!” He jumped up and spun once around. The second time, though, he landed facing the other way and sprinted off.

Her mouth fell open, but she paused only long enough to shake off Martin’s hand before chasing after him. With his laughter ringing loud, it was easy enough to stay on his trail. His skinny legs belied the strength in them, though, and she was forced to shift her sword down to run as fast as possible. All her focus was aimed at his back, and she ran without looking at anything else. Her feet slapped at the ground, knees rising high to keep her from any stumbling.

The grass began to die off. Her sandals started to pound on a dusty trail. Around her, all along the new rolling hills, were caves, were small decrepit buildings. Her breath was beginning to burn in her throat, and she snarled aloud when Kijani leaped over the hill with a peal of laughter. Vita expected to lose him in the distance. She crashed into him and his waiting arms just beyond the hill’s peak, and they rolled down the hill in a bundle of skinny limbs and swearing.

He cuddled with her, letting out his laughter into her hair. The discovery when they had come to a stop made her shout and punch his chest as hard as every muscle in her body would allow. Laughing even louder, he snapped the fingers on both hands. Her breathing halted as the flames surrounded her. She was thrown completely off of him, but she did not land painfully. A push that could have been playful let her roll back over her shoulders and bring her feet to the ground. As she lifted her head, he shot to his feet and began to bounce on his toes.

“You are _so_ much more fun than Rapoto!” he cackled. “ _Shit_ , babe!”

Vita frowned, rising to her feet and taking hold of her sword. From so close, she could see the orange in his irises, and the two circles that resided in the gold of his left eye. She made them her target as she rushed at him. The purple swept up around his forearms, and he blocked each swing without so much as a wince. The swipes at his head he slapped away; the low swings at his legs he jumped over. As she advanced, he dodged away. When she stabbed at his chest, he brought up one foot covered in fire and stamped down on the sword. It clattered from her hands and was caught under his foot.

Hacking out a cough, wheezing all the worse from her running, she stumbled back. Grin spreading, eyes widening, Kijani advanced in turn. He slid one foot forward to hook his ankle behind her heel and pulled hard. When she fell, he caught her wrists and held her up. He stepped back to bring her upright, lifting one arm and spinning her as gracefully as any dance. Grimacing, she wrenched one hand free and swung a punch at his head. He caught her hand once more, shaking his head with a snicker.

Kijani lifted his arms and whipped them backward as he snapped his fingers. Vita’s knees collapsed, bringing her down to kneel before him. He crouched and caught her chin in one hand. There was weight on her shoulders; her arms were pinned to her sides. Her sword lay uselessly on the ground under his foot.

“You are,” he whispered, “the best chick I have seen in a long fuckin’ time...you know that?” He flicked his eyes up to her hair. “Don’t even bother me that you ain’t got horns.” He tapped her chin. “Or fangs. You are fuckin’ _awesome_.” He smiled, slow and warm, and brought up his other hand. “And I am gonna give you so fuckin’ much, Vita.”

She could not keep herself from wincing when he reached over her head, and again when he tapped her nose. She opened her eyes to find a diamond shaped crystal, glowing bright blue and trailing sparkling light, held before her.

“I stole this a long fuckin’ time ago from Rapoto and Branko and Makram,” he said. “They found a bunch of these things somewhere, and I decided to fuck them over and steal some. When we started playing, they used these in their alchemy. Made the best motherfuckin’ weapons I ever did see. Now you get to have one.”

“I don’t fucking want anything from you!”

“Aw, babe, don’t be like that.” He let his eyes close halfway. “We ain’t gotta be all black. Nothin’ wrong with a little red in your life, right?” He chuckled. “I got enough black to go around back with my main motherfuckers. Haven’t had much in the way of red, but—” He leaned close, and she could feel his breath on her mouth. “Babe, I think I could be real flushed for you. All proper pity and makin’ you happy.”

“What the fuck are you—”

“C’mon. Don’t have to go black with me. You have this, you go be a badass and fly up your echeladder, and then we’ll be the biggest badasses anyone’s ever seen. Better than Rapoto, better than Makram, better than anyone. Don’t even have to ascend, we’ll be so fuckin’ great.”

“ _What_?”

Kijani chuckled again, and stroked her hair tenderly. “All this? This was a play-fight. I wanted to see how badass you were, and _damn_ you are great for not being a troll. So I’m not gonna fight you again, not ever. All pretty flushin’ and sparkly gifts for you, babe. Don’t have to worry about a thing. Not gonna let anythin’ happen to the girl I want.” He leaned even closer, and his lips nearly brushed hers. “Listen, Vita. I been pissin’ you off, but—”

A tiny pop sounded; a body unfolded out of space behind him. He jerked back, spinning about and looking up. A small woman, dressed in a dark blue skirt and a black shirt with a sign Vita did not recognize, stood there. Long horns, bent in a single waving curve, came from her flowing hair. She looked at Kijani with weary green eyes. In a voice barely more than a rasp, she said, “You idiot.”

His eyes widened; his smile became a sneer. “Oh, _fuck_ —”

She grabbed one of his horns, pulling him away with such a fierce jerk that he let go of Vita entirely. Another pop rang out, and the two of them were gone. Gasping for breath, she fell forward and slammed her hands on the ground to keep from collapsing. Between her shaking hands lay the crystal, gleaming and shining. Her sword was within reach. Gritting her teeth, she took neither. Her Activist Set buzzed as a ghost on her ear. Swallowing, she put her hand to her ear and made it appear.

—guilelessCollaborator [GC] began trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

GC: um...  
GC: oooookay, so...  
GC: azriel says that we’re going to try and make kijani nnnnnnot be a creep to you  
GC: as much as we can anyhow  
GC: sorry he’s...such a freak like that  
GC: um...  
GC: sooooo...  
GC: are you  
GC: you know  
GC: okay  
GC: at least a little?   
TG: you  
TG: you ffffffucking  
TG: you godddddddamn fucking TROLLS   
GC: hey  
GC: are you  
GC: uh...  
GC: are you crying?   
TG: I am not CRYING you fucking idiot!  
TG: I’m so pissed off that I can’t calm down!  
TG: if I ever hear that you’re messing with my friends  
TG: I am going to use this fucking thing that kijani gave me to beat the shit out of all of you!   
GC: oh...  
GC: um...  
GC: just so you know  
GC: we’re not all really trying to troll you guys...  
GC: kijani’s just reeeeeeeeally stupid about redrom  
GC: i think...  
GC: he’d probably have said sorry if  
GC: you know  
GC: i didn’t teleport us away   
TG: yeah, I’m REALLY going to believe you.   
GC: okay...  
GC: but  
GC: don’t hate all of us, okay?  
GC: kijani’s just a dumbass...  
GC: and i really think he’d say sorry   
TG: I don’t  
TG: I don’t care.  
TG: go the fuck away.   
GC: okay...  
GC: ummmm...  
GC: before i do  
GC: my name’s galina tenoch...  
GC: i’m the maid of space for us  
GC: so...  
GC: go ahead annnnnd  
GC: ask me anything you want  
GC: and  
GC: i’m sorry

—guilelessCollaborator [GC] ceased trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

Vita shoved the set down as far as she could in her sylladex, and crammed the crystal even further. She rose to her feet, holding the sword so tightly her knuckles bleached. As she turned about and started back, her shoulders were hunched; every muscle was taut.

The first underling that crossed her path was met with her oldest and truest method of retaliation: she abandoned her sword, tackled the imp to the ground, and pounded her fists into its face.

\-------  
Meet your contact in the Land of Blaze and Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last chapter left me surprised at what I learned about Hugh and avantGuide.
> 
> This chapter left me howling with laughter at the sheer insanity that Vita and Kijani got into. I just adore them and how they interact.


	7. Blaze and Stone

You are the THIEF OF MIND, you are 17 YEARS OLD, and you’re STILL UNCONSCIOUS.

You didn’t think you’d be able to THINK when you were unconscious, but you’ve been GETTING ANGRIER THAN EVER. WORSE than when you fight your FATHER. WORSE than when you get PUNISHED for fights at SCHOOL. EVEN WORSE than when you IMAGINE your friends GETTING HURT.

Your father NEVER taught you how to deal with ANGER; he always let you STEW in it. You can’t remember the last time you went to BED without being PISSED OFF at something. It’s no surprise that GETTING KNOCKED OUT by some depraved, psychotic, disgusting, evil mind-controlling TROLL makes you THIS MAD. In your stupor, you dream about how you’ll MAKE HER PAY.

That’s how MOST of your dreaming goes, anyway. The OTHER dreams are ones you’ve had BEFORE. You know, those ones about the SEER and what you’d LIKE TO SAY to her. Like to, but CAN’T. Maybe THIS TIME you’ll get to the END. You hope.

—searching...—  
—DERSE INFORMATIOIN SYNCHRONIZING...—

 _He floats in the room of his tower, high above the paved streets and purple buildings. It’s been some time since he was properly able to see. He looks out the window, seeking out the tower across from his. It was still there, and he isn’t sure why he expected it to not be. He knows he has to not be in his room, has to be there with her. He leaps from the window and flies fast. He slips in through her window, pads to her bed, and looks down._

 _She’s asleep. Still asleep. Still slumbering somehow, curled in a tight ball in her silken pajamas. He hates those pajamas, but he doesn’t mind them so much on her. She breathes deeply, expressionless in the depth of real-world dreaming she’s reached. Swiftly he turns to walk away, but slowly does he turn back._

 _“Hey,” he whispers. He turns completely. “Amie, hey. So.” He swallows and starts to crouch down. “So you remember what Tanner said about dreams, right? And how I said I don’t dream? I...um.” He sinks onto his knees. “Amie, I lied. I’ve been awake up here a long time. But you’re still asleep.”_

 _He flicks the thumb of one hand against the inside of his pointer finger. “But hey, don’t, um, don’t worry. I’m not really watching you sleep or anything. I just check on you sometimes, like right now.” He swallows again. “Amie.” Again. “I think you’re really pretty. I think you’d like this place. But...I wish you’d wake up so we could talk here.” He closes his eyes and opens them. “’Cause I really want to say something to you.”_

 _There is hissing. It seeps in slowly from the window and travels in the air he breathes. He shoots to his feet, spinning and stepping closer to her bed as he goes. There are no shadows on Derse, but **her** face is still hidden in the bleakness of her hood and cowl. **She’s** there, somehow. Standing before him, standing tall, looking down at him **again** even though he’s taller than her. And she catches him in the Grip before he can even think to struggle._

 _His tongue is still his own, and he shouts, “No no **no**!” at her. She ignores him, and the whiteness of her fangs shines horribly in the dark. It stands out against all the royal violet. He screams, “Not you!” She chuckles as a snake might, all sharp puffs of exhalations between those gleaming teeth._

 _When she reaches out and takes hold of him shirt, he’s still floating. He can’t fly one way or the other to escape her, and she pulls him closer. For a horrible moment, he thinks she’ll kiss him with that black mouth of hers. She instead pulls him through the air toward the window. She steps up onto the sill and drags him out into the still, endless night. Her Grip caresses something inside his skull and he is left hanging from her hand. He cannot kick; he cannot flail. She has taken away his voice._

 _She smiles. He sees her mouth opening. He f₦∂₰ῴ!” ¶¤¤ -+//ºĦ≠≠_

—FATAL READ ERROR—  
—DESYCHRONIZING—

Liam woke up slung over someone’s shoulder. At first, the sight of the ground below was befuddling. He recognized it: the deep, brilliant red stone of his planet. It was not the white of the Land of Snow and Crystals, and so he did not understand enough to think himself awake. He felt the jostle of walking, felt the difficulty of breathing with his body bent in half over a hard object. He blinked slowly.

He saw the gray skin of the bare feet that ferried him along.

“Ohhhh _fuck no_!”

He grabbed the shoulders under him, getting enough leverage to slam his knees against the person’s chest. The strike did nothing; he was lifted bodily by the back of his shirt for it. He flailed all the more at his new position, delivering wild kicks to the person’s stomach. The muscle he struck was so firm he stubbed his toes on each kick. He continued to whip his legs about.

“And I was worried you’d try to use the Mindgrip on me when you woke.”

He was dropped as unceremoniously as he had ever been, hitting the ground with a thud. When he opened his eyes, he could see his house, far taller than when he’d left, past legs clad in ragged-edged black jeans. As he looked up slowly, the person crouched down.

She was not the troll he hated. Her thick horns were much shorter, capped in nubs barely a hand span from her hair. Her hair was sleek and long, tied back neatly at her neck. There were no fangs outside her mouth, on her frowning black lips. In her yellow eyes were irises as bright red as the stone under their feet. She put the elbows of her bare arms on her knees, the short sleeves hemmed neatly. On her black shirt was a sigil he did not recognize, as though the numbers six and nine had been laid flat atop each other, dyed the same color as her eyes.

He stared, eyes narrowing as time passed. “Are...you contemptuousCavalier?”

“Mahima Virote, yes.” She sighed, flicking her eyes past his shoulder. “And Rapoto left you to be eaten.”

He started, clapping his hands along the length of his body.

“I got to you both before she could take control of any underlings and make them devour you. I did try to fight her, of course, but...” In her trailing off, she gestured to her temple. He nodded slowly.

“She absconded soon after I arrived, though.” With another sigh, she licked at her lips, and Liam noticed the small cuts on her lower lip. The tension had never left him entirely, but the sight of the bright red wounds made his shoulders vibrate in the rage that surged up his spine.

“She fucking _cut_ you?” he shouted. He scrambled to his feet, turning toward the gates in the sky, but she reached out a hand almost idly and caught his wrist. She budged not a centimeter, never tightened her grip, but he was so abruptly halted that his feet skid out from beneath him. Once more, he hit the ground, and swore loudly for the pain in his rear. “What the hell, Virote?”

“You are being reckless,” she said quietly. “Neither of us have any idea where she’s gone to, and given her transcendence, I very much doubt that you’re going to have any chance of keeping up with her on a chase. In any case, we need to concentrate on getting you up your echeladder to battle your denizen.”

“Her—wait, her _what_?”

“Transcendence.”

A pause. “Her _what_?”

She looked at him with a raised brow. “Have you bothered talking to your sprite at all?”

“Ninjasprite and me don’t waste time talking,” he said. “ _You’re_ the one who said I have to train my mind control stuff.”

She let go of his wrist to put a hand to her face. Massaging the bridge of her nose, she said, “Not at the expense of perpetuating ignorance.”

“Fuck you, I’m not ignorant.”

“Do you know what your purpose on this planet is?”

He scowled. “I’m here to get to be a badass and take care of my friends.”

“No, no, no,” she muttered. “Each player has a purpose to fulfill on their planet aside from their personal goals. You are here to defeat the denizen.”

“Look, I don’t give any shits about denizens or what this planet needs.” He pushed himself from the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked away. “All this place is good for is leveling up.”

“Even Rapoto knew to follow the game constructs and fought her denizen.”

He spun to face her, lips pulling back in a sneer. With a snarl, he brought his leg up and swung his foot at her face. Rolling her eyes, she lifted her hand with more than enough time to spare, catching his ankle. Before he could try to jerk away, she brought her other hand up to his knee and lifted him from the ground. There was no strain in her face or in her shoulders when she let go of his knee, grabbed his other foot, and held him, standing, over her head.

He pitched back and forth, arms wheeling. “Ho-holy _shit_! Let me down!”

She did not. She stood from her crouch, still holding him high. With a whimper-whine, he bent his knees to keep his balance, trying to pry her fingers open and away from his feet. It was akin to trying to bend steel with a plush toy.

“Every time you act like a petulant wriggler, I’m going to do this to you,” she said. “Do you understand?”

“Fuck, okay _fine_! Just let me down already!”

“Are you going to listen to me without throwing tantrums?”

“Jesus Christ, yes! Put me down!”

“All right.” She tossed him up slightly, ignored the way he let out a small shriek, and caught him beneath his arms before he hit the ground. She set him on his feet, blinking when he skipped backward. For a moment, he held out his hands as though he would draw his kusarigama. Mahima raised a brow; he dropped his hands.

“Okay,” he said. He shifted where he stood, flicking his thumbs against his other fingers. “Okay, so—what about this transcendence thing?”

“Devaki Rapoto is a god.”

“I thought you fuckin’ hated her.”

“Hatred does not change fact. In our session, Rapoto reached God Tier. She is, very literally, a god.”

Liam looked at her blankly, blinking slowly. “Is...that supposed to mean somethin’?”

Mahima sighed. “What did you think you were leveling up _for_?”

“To get stronger.”

“All right. There’s a limit to what a regular body can achieve. I am at the top of my echeladder. Thus, I cannot get any stronger or faster, and I cannot gain any more stamina as I am now. If I wanted to advance, I would need to transcend and reach God Tier.”

His blank look remained.

“Are you even trying to understand what I’m saying at this point?”

He sneered, hackles rising. “God _dammit_ , I’m not retarded! I just don’t believe it!”

“You seem to be dealing wonderfully with the alien creature standing before you, as well as the entire concept of this apocalypse-inducing game.”

“Fuck off, Virote.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. “Only dumbass babies believe in God.”

“Attempting to deny the reality of Rapoto’s godhood out of some contempt for a bizarre human belief system does not negate it. She _is_ a god. I am trying to help _you_ reach God Tier.”

Liam looked up. “Why the fuck would _I_ be able to become some kinda fake-ass god?”

“This game of yours and our Sgrub are fundamentally the same. If Rapoto can become a god, there is nothing to stop you from transcending.”

Silence. When its long life was ended, it was because of his quiet voice and the question it carried. “So people can really become gods with this game?”

“Yes. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “but I don’t really get why you’re _helpin_ ’ me when you’re a troll.”

“The term aside, I’ve told you why I’m doing this. She’s my kismesis. I want to see her fail. If your Seer survives, then I’ll have saved at least one life from her blades.”

“You sayin’ she’s killed before?”

She looked at him strangely. He struggled to not rub at his face to check for anything, but she spoke abruptly. “ _I’ve_ killed before. How do you think I’m still alive?”

“Wait, what the fuck. You’ve _killed_ people?”

“It’s how I’ve avoided being culled. Did you think I would let someone kill me just for my blood when I was stronger than almost every other troll on Alternia? When I’m the strongest troll in existence?”

He frowned. “You’re throwin’ out a whole lotta weird noise at me. What’re you talkin’ about?”

Mahima opened her mouth, but paused. With her lips parted, he could see the fangs beyond them. She took a slow breath. “You humans don’t cull one another.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means to eliminate the weak and useless—or those of unacceptable standing or birth.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. “What color is your blood?”

He reeled slightly, head shaking. “The fuck?”

“Tell me what color your blood is.”

“Are you shitting me?” He pointed at the wound in his lip. “It’s red, jack-wagon.”

Her eyes widened. She stepped closer to him, moving slowly to keep him from rushing back. A quick snatch of his arm kept him completely where he was, and she pulled him close. She was considerably taller, and he stared up at her as she gazed at the wound. Her free hand rose up and touched his chin; he could feel the sharp tips of her nails near his lip.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” she whispered. Her eyes widened further. Her fingers twitched. “I—thought—I thought that only the people of Prospit and Derse had red blood. That I was still a complete aberration. Are—what other colors are there for humans?”

He ducked his head down and aside, getting away from her touch. “What the hell kinda question is that? Everyone has red blood, you fuckin’ spaz.”

“Red blood?” She shook him, and he yelped at the creaking of his shoulder in its joint. “The same shade as yours? As—as mine?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, yes! What the fuck else would it be?”

“What did you think I meant when I called Devaki the Grand Highblood?”

“That she was some sorta weird-ass royalty for you jack-wagons.”

“No, that’s not—no, she _is_ , but—she has the highest color for land dwellers on the hemospectrum. That’s why she’s the Highblood.”

He blinked, mouth pulling into a frown. “You guys have some kinda system about your blood color?”

“What else would we use as a means to establish hierarchy?”

A long pause. “You guys are fuckin’ _weird_ , okay?”

She grimaced, baring her fangs. They were many, but they did not shine as wickedly as the ones in his dream or stand out so proudly. With a convulsion, she pushed his arm away and shook her hands furiously in the air. “Don’t you—fucking _understand_? I am a mutant for trolls. Devaki has mocked me from the first day we _met_ for it. She says I have candy swill running through my veins. And now you’re telling me that the world we—that your Earth—everyone has the exact same mutant blood in them?” Her brows dropped; her lips pulled back to reveal more of her fangs. “That was _taken_ from me?”

Liam felt one of his legs drift backward. “Uh...Virote? Mahima?”

She reached out as though she would grab his shirt, but halted before her fingers touched him. She clenched her hands shut, and he saw beads of red slip between her fingers. Slowly, she let her hands return to her sides. “I...was _denied_ that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about with this taken and denied shit?”

She closed her eyes tightly, tilting back her head. “And you don’t even—fucking know what that _means_.”

“Then fuckin’ school me already! What emo bullshit are you saying?”

“This game creates worlds, you complete idiot. _Universes_.” She took a deep breath. “We created yours. And now it’s gone.”

He opened his mouth, but he did not know if there had been sarcasm waiting to be born from his tongue. He stood in silence, mouth agape. In small increments, he managed to close it. He looked down; he twisted his heel on the ground and watched the back and forth swing of his sneaker. Eventually, he pulled one corner of his mouth into his cheek and exhaled through his nose.

“What the hell do you want me to say about it?” he asked.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s not our fault.” He jerked one shoulder up in a shrug. “Do you want me to say sorry? ‘Cause I’m not the kind of asshole who says sorry when I don’t mean it. And I won’t mean it.”

“And what if I told you that victory being stolen from us was your fault?”

“Pretty sure you’re fuckin’ lying to me.”

“ _I do not lie_.”

“Then how the hell did we fuck it up?”

“You—your Heir and Bard _did_ something. Something that stole our Prince and Maid and threw us into the Veil. I still don’t know, but it happened.”

“I ain’t believin’ it.”

“Then how do you explain our being here?”

“Iunno. Tanner and Amie said somethin’ about you guys being glitches or whatever. Maybe that’s what you are.”

Her hand stopped just beside his cheek. He felt as though his heart had stopped, because he could imagine the spray of blood and bone that would have flown from his mouth. He knew his imagination was correct when she gave the lightest of taps to his chest and knocked him entirely from his feet. Coughing, wheezing from the pain he knew would settle in a vast bruise, he managed to open one eye.

Mahima crouched over his legs, eyes narrow and gleaming with a red sheen. Though the color made his breathing stutter even more, the diluted red tears that began to slide down her face made him stare.

“Are you going to deny my existence?” she asked. She reached down, stretching one finger out to touch the ground beside his ear. “Am I supposed to just accept that this tiny—” She tapped the ground, cracking it. “Soft—” Another tap. “ _Weak_ —” Tap. “ _Thing_ that I am responsible for creating has the gall to claim I’m just a glitch?”

She sneered, letting out a wicked chuckle. “Me? I’m the one who has the courage to own up to what I feel and do. _I’m_ the one who sought out Devaki as a kismesis. _I’m_ the one who made Vilmos admit that he pitied me more than anyone else there is by telling him I pitied him _first_. _I’m_ the one who discovered what it means to be the Sylph of Blood—what it means to _succeed_. So unlike _you_ , Liam Tiernan, Thief of Mind, I am not a _coward_.”

He wanted to swing his fist at her face. But in her furious eyes he saw what would happen: his strike would end with her bringing her head into it; his hand would shatter for it. He lay there, barely able to breathe from so many things he could not, would not name. It was impossible to swallow down the lump in his throat, and the pain of coughing it out nearly made him retch.

“Fuck you,” he hissed.

“That’s what Devaki’s for.”

“’M not a fuckin’ coward, you fuckin’ bitch.”

“Have you told your Seer that you’re flushed for her?”

“That’s none of your fucking business!”

“It’s the reason I contacted you in the first place,” Mahima said. “I thought that there was just the tiniest chance that you would want to be more than a coward if she was in danger.”

He opened both eyes, baring his teeth in return. “Don’t you _dare_ threaten her!”

“I’m not the one threatening her. Devaki is. And you’re the one who’s not going to be able to help. All you’ve done is thrown tantrums when I try to make you do something.”

“Then don’t fuckin’ order me around!”

“Do you expect me to leave you to your own devices? You won’t even seek out what you’re supposed to do on this planet! What hope do you have of competing with a god when you won’t tell the girl you’re flushed for that she’s in danger?”

“Have _you_ fuckin’ said anything to her?”

“How is that my job? I’m in this for my own selfish reasons, not for any affection for the Seer.”

“Her name is Amie Laurent!”

Mahima smiled, and it was the same cruel thing he had seen on the other troll’s face. “I wasn’t aware I was under any obligation to say the name of someone I don’t respect. _Thief_.”

The urge to punch her finally swelled over. He was beaten to the strike, though, by the flash of gold that heralded the appearance of his sprite. With a shout, Ninjasprite stabbed at her face. Her reaction was instantaneous: she rocked back onto her heels and pushed off. Liam felt the ground beneath him shatter and watched her speed backward. Though Ninjasprite gave chase and swung his sword at her neck when she landed, she was still faster and stepped away.

Each attack was swayed from, dodged immediately. He stabbed at her forehead; she leaned back to avoid it. He drew a dagger from his belt and swiped at her belly; she skipped to one side. Ninjasprite never slowed in his attacks, weaving around her and cutting off any retreat or real escape. Instead, he made her turn her back on Liam and kept her where she stood.

For a long moment, Liam did not move. He sat where he was, staring at the strife before him. Where Ninjasprite was without the need for air, Mahima did not exert herself enough to need deeper breathing. For however fast he was, she was twice as quick. There was always a great gap between blade and flesh; it had never been anything but a standstill. It was only when Liam noticed that she had put her hands behind her back, one holding the wrist of the other, that he reacted.

He took a deep breath despite the ache in his chest and sent out his mind. What he found was akin to soft clay. He only touched it at first, searching for hard points and faults. In the distance, Mahima paused. Though she made to turn toward him, Ninjasprite took a calculated swing at her neck and forced the return of her attention. Heart hammering, Liam continued to feel out the mind before him.

All the underlings had been the same: unguarded and perfectly malleable. It had taken him fourteen levels before he could truly force any imp to turn on its compatriots. Then, sitting at level twenty-three with the domination of an ogre under his belt, he was confident he knew the shape of a mind to be taken. Grimacing, putting both hands to his head, he reached to close his grip upon her.

Mahima’s hands were around his neck. He did not know when she had escaped Ninjasprite’s attacks. He stared up at her, eyes wide. When he sought her again, he found the clay replaced with stone covered in sharp spikes. He could not seize control of her hands.

“What do you think a God of Mind is capable of?”

His voice quavered when he said, “Huh?”

“By the time we planned our assault on the Black King, Devaki— _Rapoto_ —was able to control all in our group. It was part of the plan. There are two trolls she _won’t_ control, and the only one she _can’t_ control is another God. Azriel Makram."

“Who—”

“She has no problems controlling others. You can’t even control a sentient being. If you can’t steal my will—if you can’t even _outpace_ me in speed—then you’re not going to be able to combat her. I’ve told you this before.”

“Let me go.”

“Tell your sprite to get his sword away from my neck.”

He looked over her shoulder. Ninjasprite hovered there, sword held up to show the blade over her neck. The glowing eyes glared and flickered back and forth between Liam’s face and the back of Mahima’s head. When he swallowed, he could feel her nails in the hollow of his throat.

“It’s okay,” he muttered. “Do what she said.”

Resentment filled the sprite’s eyes, but he did as he was ordered. She let go of his neck. Slowly, she rose from her knees and stood. Just as slowly, she held out a hand.

He sneered. “Fu—”

“Before you completely condemn me, I apologize.”

Silence filled with suspicious staring.

“I am trying to impress upon you how seriously you need to take this. I am not trying to alienate you or make you as angry as you are currently.”

“ _Great_ way to make me fuckin’ understand.”

“ _Listen_. You cannot underestimate any of us, least of all your counterpart player. She is the most dangerous among us.”

“Yeah yeah _yeah_. She’s got the Mindgrip and she’s a fuckin’ psycho. I get it already.”

“You do not understand it. You call her a psychopath because you’re angry that she beat you so thoroughly.”

“Hey fuck that noise, she—”

She waved his protest away. “I watched it on the Trollian viewports. It’s why I came to find you. But I need you to remember what I said about our hemospectrum—our varying blood colors. The higher you go, the greater the chance of you being _wantonly_ violent. Highbloods are particularly susceptible, and the only reason she never went murderously mad is because of Makram and her moirail, Sitara Jalena.”

He stared at her, brows lowering. “You’re saying that she’s _really_ a psycho? Like, certifiable?”

“If you humans certify mental statuses, then yes.” She paused, rolling her eyes. “Though many of us must hardly seem sane.”

He snorted. “Aside from bein’ a bitch, you seem pretty sane.”

“Your flattery is charming.”

“Okay, fine. She’s really a whacko. Is that why she’s goin’ after Amie?”

“I believe so. I admit I didn’t pay as much attention to her as I should have when we were trapped in the Veil, but she seemed...excited somehow by the time we were pulled here. And I fear that she’s fallen out of contact with her moirail.”

“Her what?”

“Her moirail.” She sighed at the blank look she received. “It’s—your moirail is usually the person that keeps you from flying off the rails. It would seem absurd that a Highblood would have a lowly yellow-blood as their moirail, but Jalena has a psychic ability of her own. She’s able to calm down whoever she pleases, even to the point of incapacitating them. It keeps Rapoto from murdering thoughtlessly.”

“So...if she’s not around this chick Jalena...what happens?”

“There is a very good chance that she’s going to go on a rampage. And I think that your Seer is her main target.”

Every power in the world, all of gravity, all of the murky air of the Land of Blaze and Stone, every ounce of fear in his body dived into his throat. He could not think of any words, let alone create any noise to carry them.

Again, Mahima held out her hand. “We need to work. I’ll try to find Vilmos. I’ll try to contact Jalena—even Makram. But you’re the one with the strongest drive to stop her. I apologize for before. Will you work with me to stop her?”

Liam did not try to swallow past the black hole in his throat. He nodded slowly, looking up to her as he took her hand. She pulled him to his feet when his grip was sure, lifting him from the ground entirely for a moment. Somehow, he was able to clear his throat. In a breaking whisper, he said, “Lemme just...go message my friends. Really quick. Okay?”

“Go ahead. I’ll try to contact the others.”

He fidgeted, torn between cramming his hands in his pockets and looking away. In the end, he turned toward his house and ran to it. He knew Ninjasprite followed him inside, into his bedroom, but he ignored him. The computer was logged onto, and he pulled up Pesterchum. Every name he sought was dark and offline. He glanced at the message Vita had left him, but did not truly note the rage in it. A moment was given to scribble down the captchalogue code on a piece of paper, and he set to typing a reply.

—adeptTraducer [AT] began pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

AT: hey  
AT: Hiroyuki  
AT: i know youre offline and shit  
AT: but look  
AT: that thing that fucked with Amie and Tanner  
AT: i know what that thing is  
AT: its not a glitch  
AT: its somethin really bad ok  
AT: so  
AT: look we really need to fuckin get together on this shit  
AT: we need to  
AT: you got trolled right  
AT: i bet you have by now  
AT: we need to not fight them ok  
AT: theyre not all bad  
AT: but one REALLY is  
AT: so we need to work with them and save  
AT: keep each other safe  
AT: get back to me

—adeptTraducer [AT] ceased pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—

He did not dismiss the window, but opened another.

—adeptTraducer [AT] began pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AT: Tanner  
AT: Tanner seriously where the fuck are you man  
AT: ok look  
AT: you were right  
AT: i was being a retard asshole  
AT: i wasnt ready for that bitch  
AT: and now im gettin schooled about it all  
AT: if youre gettin trolled by anyone  
AT: you need to listen to them  
AT: they know a lotta stuff that we need to know  
AT: and i think they’re really tryin to help us with this crazy bitch runnin around  
AT: so  
AT: look just get back to me  
AT: i have to go take care of a lotta shit right now  
AT: gain a lotta levels  
AT: you guys should too  
AT: get back to me man

—adeptTraducer [AT] ceased pestering gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

The last window he opened sat untouched for a long time. He stared at the blinking line in the text box, letting his eyes drift up to the handle waiting for his message. He wondered if she was really waiting for something, for any word from them. From him. Many minutes passed waiting for her name to light up. Eventually, he swallowed and put his fingers to the keyboard.

—adeptTraducer [AT] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

AT: Amie  
AT: Amie  
AT: can you tell me if youre ok  
AT: after you said you got attacked an shit  
AT: look ive been worried about you  
AT: and the others  
AT: i want you to be careful about who youre talkin to  
AT: theres a  
AT: theres some wicked ass trolls runnin around  
AT: pretty sure theyre gunning for us  
AT: really tryin to fuck us over  
AT: and theres just a bunch of weird shit goin on with this game  
AT: we need to stick together  
AT: and  
AT: um  
AT: know how Tanner asked if we knew about our dreams  
AT: i  
AT: i kinda lied  
AT: theres this planet im on  
AT: and  
AT: youre on it too  
AT: i think we need to be careful up there too  
AT: so  
AT: get back to me about everything  
AT: ill explain about that planet thing  
AT: stay safe  
AT: and get back to me

—adeptTraducer [AT] ceased pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

Liam took his hands from the keyboard. He stared at the three blinking lines, the three silent windows. He rubbed his face; he massaged his throat. A moment was passed flicking his thumbs against his fingers. Swiftly, he reached out both hands, took hold of his computer, and shoved it into his sylladex. Taking the code Vita had given him, picking up a pair of sunglasses, he went to the designix with his jaw set and his shoulders hunched.

\-------

Discover secrets in the Land of Snow and Crystals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It must seem repetitive to hear me say that I really liked all of this chapter, but it keeps being true. I quite enjoyed looking at Liam like this. He's such an odd little man. (The song _Little Lion Man_ by Mumford  & Sons is very fitting for him.)
> 
> Delving into the trolls doesn't hurt either. They make me giggle.


	8. Snow and Crystals

You are the SEER OF VOID and you are COMPLETELY ASLEEP.

This is an issue TWOFOLD, but you DON’T KNOW THAT. When you FELL ASLEEP on your planet, you thought that your DREAMS were meaningless WARP AND WOOF. You knew COLOR. You knew SOUND. You never gave it MUCH THOUGHT. You certainly never TALKED ABOUT IT with your MOTHER. You never talked about ANYTHING with her, REALLY. You used to think EVERYBODY had dreams LIKE YOURS.

But then the HEIR told you about THE GOLDEN MOON, and you and your best friend the BARD spent a long time talking about what your dreams COULD MEAN. Even though you BOTH were having dreams that were OF SLEEP, neither of you knew it. And there was NO WAY you knew what was really THE SOURCE of your NIGHTMARES.

You never told ANYONE about those nightmares, because they NEVER MADE SENSE to you. All you HEARD was RAGE; all you SAW was BLACK. There were A LOT OF NIGHTS where you stayed up until SUNRISE because of those nightmares. The BARD was usually awake to TALK YOU DOWN from your PANIC ATTACKS. It’s really NO WONDER why you HAVE A CRUSH.

You are ASLEEP TWOFOLD right now, but ONLY JUST. You SHOULD be having a NIGHTMARE, but you AREN’T. You’re seeing BLACK, but it’s got a DIFFERENT color in it. You DON’T hear anything.

But that’s because there are hands over the ears of your dreamself’s body.

Now WAKE UP.

—searching...—  
—DERSE INFORMATION SYNCHRONIZING...—

 _She wakes with a shadow over her. Even a Derse body takes waking slow, and she barely notices the shadow for it. Only when she curls her fingers and realizes that she’s not on the couch in her house does she react to the shadow. She looks up and stares, and her eyes widen as the seconds pass._

 _The woman from before stands at her bedside. Her hood is down and her smile is massive. It borders on a wild grin. In a body that she’s never felt before, in a room she’s never seen, she has no idea how to respond to those gleaming fangs. She sits up slowly and keeps her head down. The woman continues to smile._

 _Very suddenly, the woman skips backward through the room. She lands lightly on the sill of the open window and reaches out one hand to grasp the frame. The fingers of the other hand she crooks toward her. There is no push at her mind, but she stands up regardless. When the woman leaps from the window and falls into the black outside, she abandons pretense and bolts from her bed._

 _She looks out to find a fairytale kingdom, painted rich violet over black velvet. Tiny black spots move on the streets far below, and she can see a tower in the distance. She isn’t sure she can breathe. Slowly, she leans out further. The woman is nowhere to be seen below. There isn’t even a splatter on the ground._

 _A hand touches her ear. She turns, and the woman is hanging on the wall beside the window with the knife from her wrist gauntlet stabbed in the stone. Still grinning, the woman pulls her arm away from the wall. She reaches out, terrified that the woman will plummet. Instead, the woman hovers in the air, feet still braced on the wall. She taps her fingertips against those of the hand reached out to her and lets out a quiet chuckle. Her thin black lips part, and she speaks._

 _She s∞¤ⱴ₪‡-//_

—FATAL READ ERROR—  
—DESYNCHRONZING—

Amie hit the floor face first. Coughing, hands scrabbling at the carpet, she pushed herself up. She nearly fell back over in whipping one hand up to catch the drops of blood falling from her nose. Wobbling on still drowsy legs, she stood, went into the kitchen, and held her head over the sink. The blood made small, tinny plips against the bottom with each drop, and she sighed. With her clean hand, she turned on the water. The blood sluiced away, traveling from the deep crimson centers to long tails of fading pink. When she held her blood covered hand under the flow, it darkened the sink once again.

A minute passed, and then another. She pinched her nose carefully, flicking her wet hand when the blood was gone. As the water and the blood washed away, she stared at the drain. No matter how hard she tried, she could not recall the woman’s voice. All she could think of was the dark purple of the planet she had woken on, of the tower she had slept in. With her nose still bleeding, she could not move to look out a window toward Skaia.

It took six more minutes before her nose finally stopped bleeding, and she grabbed a clean towel as she left the kitchen. Though her first thought was to go sky-gazing, she paused halfway through the living room. Almost jogging, she hurried to her bedroom and woke her computer. The sight of all the offline messages she’d received made her smile, but a glance at the chumroll showed that no one was online to follow up on those messages.

A name in the trollslum was alight, however. Brows knitting, Amie stared at the anlaceAgent handle. She chewed on her lip a moment. Still biting her lip, she clicked over to the message Vita had left to copy down the captchalogue code there writ. Taking that, she ventured into the basement to fetch a pair of safety glasses. With her phone still in her sylladex, she went up the stairs to the designix, totem lathe, and alchemiter in quick succession. All the items’ cards were punched through, and she cobbled together the Savvy Carver Com-set. She set it on her face; tentatively, she opened Pesterchum with taps of her fingers in the air and began a message.

—aspiringCarver [AC] began pestering anlaceAgent [AA]—

AC: um  
AC: hello?  
AC: dev?   
AA: What.  
AA: What in the fuck?   
AC: oh wow  
AC: i didn’t think it’d work  
AC: this is kinda cool   
AA: Why the hell did you call me that?   
AC: that’s what your  
AC: your uh  
AC: moirail...?  
AC: did i get it right this time?  
AC: anyway CA called you dev  
AC: that’s your name right?   
AA: My name is Devaki.   
AC: oh  
AC: sorry  
AC: d’you want me to call you that?   
AA: What in the grub-fucking hell are you doing messaging me?  
AA: I would have thought you’d have told me to fuck right off if I contacted you again.   
AC: i’m saying thank you   
AA: ...  
AA: I beg your pardon?   
AC: you were nice to me before  
AC: you calmed me down when I was pissed at hugh  
AC: remember?   
AA: No.   
AC: ...huh?  
AC: but  
AC: no you did  
AC: you told me to talk to my friend ‘cause i wasn’t listening to you  
AC: i was starting to freak out and you helped me  
AC: like not even five hours i think   
AA: ...  
AA: What?   
AC: oh come on!  
AC: i’m trying to thank you for being nice and you’re just gonna act like you didn’t do anything?   
AA: I  
AA: Listen.  
AA: These fucking non-linear time games the other assholes are playing, I don’t want to play.  
AA: Azriel’s the only one who really gets them, but he’s not here to explain them to me.  
AA: I’m trolling you in fucking order.   
AC: order?  
AC: hey wait  
AC: you asked me last time WHEN it was for me that we were talking  
AC: what does that mean?   
AA: ...  
AA: Nothing.  
AA: Never mind. You’re welcome for this being nice shit.  
AA: What did you want?   
AC: um  
AC: so  
AC: you’re playing the same game as us right?  
AC: all my friends aren’t online right now and something weird just happened  
AC: i was  
AC: um  
AC: i was kinda hoping you might be able to explain it   
AA: Seriously, what in the fuck.  
AA: You come to me first?  
AA: Not your sprite? Not waiting for your teammates to get back online?   
AC: well  
AC: i dunno  
AC: my sprite doesn’t talk to me much and we don’t really get along  
AC: he’s like my mom  
AC: you seem to know a lot about the game  
AC: and since you were nice before i thought you would explain it   
AA: ...   
AC: please?   
AA: Ugh.  
AA: I just  
AA: I  
AA: Oh, fuck it. Fine.  
AA: What is it?   
AC: okay so  
AC: hugh said something about this planet he has a body on when he goes to sleep  
AC: i didn’t believe him before but i just woke up on there too  
AC: but it’s not like how he described it   
AA: What does it look like?   
AC: really REALLY purple  
AC: and there was just this  
AC: well this amazing world like out of a fantasy book with towers and a city  
AC: and the sky was so black i couldn’t see anything but the planet   
AA: ...  
AA: You woke up on Derse. On its moon.  
AA: You’ve described the planet Derse, furthest from Skaia and past the Veil.   
AC: oh  
AC: oh wow  
AC: then who was the person there with me?   
AA: One of your teammates.   
AC: no no!  
AC: it was a woman i’ve seen before  
AC: she has these horns and fangs and gray skin   
AA: She what?   
AC: oh and she has glasses and these dark purple eyes  
AC: she’s  
AC: um  
AC: god i don’t know  
AC: but she was really smiling  
AC: and it looked like she could fly   
AA: What.  
AA: You  
AA: Her horns.  
AA: What did her horns look like?   
AC: ...  
AC: wait that was dumb  
AC: you can’t see me do that with my hands  
AC: one was a little bit curved  
AC: and the other one had a hook at the end   
AA: ...  
AA: What the fuck.   
AC: do you know who she is?   
AA: No.  
AA: No I fucking do not know who she is.  
AA: If she’s not one of your teammates  
AA: She’s  
AA: She must be a Dersite.   
AC: oh  
AC: um  
AC: okay  
AC: she kinda threw me off the roof of my house the first time i met her  
AC: but it was like she was helping me  
AC: do you think i should be careful around her?   
AA: ...  
AA: ...   
AC: hey  
AC: devaki are you okay?   
AA: Don’t fucking ask me that. I’m always fucking okay. Fuck’s sake, you damn pansy.   
AC: okay okay  
AC: calm down i was just a little worried   
AA: Don’t fucking worry about me.  
AA: Ever.  
AA: EVER.  
AA: Dammit  
AA: I don’t need you to fucking worry about me  
AA: Don’t need anyone to  
AA: just  
AA: just fucking DON’T   
AC: devaki jesus!  
AC: calm down!  
AC: i didn’t mean to make you mad!   
AA: STOP IT   
AC: no  
AC: hey no!  
AC: calm the hell down you friggin’ spaz!  
AC: i just came to thank you for being nice and ask you for help!  
AC: i didn’t mean to make you freak out and you shouldn’t be!  
AC: please calm down!   
AA: ...   
AC: c’mon just breathe okay?   
AA: ...  
AA: what  
AA: You  
AA: What just   
AC: are you doing okay now?   
AA: ...  
AA: Yes.  
AA: Yes I am.   
AC: okay good  
AC: cool :)  
AC: so um  
AC: should i be careful around her?   
AA: I usually would tell you to be careful around everyone  
AA: But I don’t think she’s there to hurt you.  
AA: You should explore your world.   
AC: huh?   
AA: There’s always something to learn on your planet.  
AA: About your purpose, your consorts, and your skills as a  
AA: What the fuck are you, anyway?   
AC: seer of void   
AA: Hmm.  
AA: Go see if you can learn about your lore and what you’re supposed to be doing on the planet.   
AC: okay  
AC: that actually sounds kinda fun  
AC: i’m gonna go   
AA: Wait a minute.   
AC: what?   
AA: Why are you acting like this?   
AC: like what?   
AA: Like you don’t hate me.   
AC: huh?  
AC: hey yeah you were a jerk before  
AC: but why would i hate you?  
AC: i’m not really good at hating people even though i get mad at them a lot  
AC: and i don’t think you’re trying to piss me off as much as you want me to think  
AC: you big baby   
AA: ...  
AA: Fuck you.  
AA: Go fuck around on your shitty snowy planet.   
AC: ha ha!  
AC: okay  
AC: is it okay if i pester you if i need help?   
AA: ...  
AA: Fine.  
AA: Go.   
AC: okay  
AC: later

—aspiringCarver [AC] ceased pestering anlaceAgent [AA]—

She shifted the Com-set down, itching behind one ear at the sensation of weighted nothingness. Returning to the first floor, she slipped on her shoes and went outside. While her alchemized outfits cut down on the cold, she frowned at the biting wind on the back of her neck. Rocking back and forth on her feet, putting her hands on her neck, she looked around at all the nothing in what had once been her front yard.

“Tim?” she said aloud. “Timsprite?”

“Yes?”

She yelped, jerking back half a step. The sprite hovered before her, arms folded behind his back. “Do you have to do that every time I call you?”

“Did you have to name me ‘Tim?’”

Amie frowned at him. “Are you going to ask me that every single time we talk? Because it’s already super old.”

“I’m only saying it’s not the most unique of names.”

“Holy crap, please drop it.”

He shrugged. “All right. What did you need?”

“What’s my purpose here? Here on Losac, I mean.”

“As the Seer of Void?” He paused; he let out a sigh as his eyes drifted toward the ground. “To divine a way to defeat the denizen.”

“Which is what?”

“The creature responsible for all this snow.”

“Wait,” said Amie. “Even though this place is called the Land of Snow and Crystals, it’s not supposed to be snowy?” She exhaled, lifting her brows. “Well, if it gets me somewhere that’s not so completely opposite Arizona, okay.” Drawing the Firestorm Chisel, she strode off the front step and began shuffling through the ankle-deep snow.

“Where are you going?” Timsprite asked.

“You said I had to figure out how to beat it, right? Maybe there’s something out there I can find about it.”

“In fields of snow and ice.”

She rolled her eyes and did not look at him when he started to follow. “Yes, _mom_ , in fields of snow and ice. Do you have a better place to look?”

“Somewhere that wouldn’t involve constantly being in danger of attacks by underlings, for one.”

“Tim, come _on_! I can fight on my own just fine! Vita wouldn’t have gone back to her planet if she didn’t think I could do it!”

Silence.

Amie stopped walking. “ _What_.”

“What?”

“You’re doing the exact same thing my mom does when I tell her Vita’s supporting me.”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“Yeah! That’s what she does!” She spun about, lifting a hand to jab a finger into his chest. The wince at the sparking on her fingertip she blended into a fiercer frown than before. “She doesn’t ever say that she’s happy my friend’s got my back or that she wants me to do my best! She just wants me to figure out what it is _she_ wants without ever saying what it is! And I can’t believe you’re going to do that to me when you _said_ you’re here to help me!”

He raised a brow slowly. “Are you done?”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Do you think that I—that _she_ —would be doing anything if it wasn’t for your benefit? What makes you think we’re wrong?”

“Because you make me feel like an idiot baby when I want to do stuff on my own! How is that supposed to be a good thing for me?”

“You’re young.”

Silence. She looked down.

“You need to learn. I’m making sure you don’t get hurt.”

Silence. She took a deep breath.

He frowned. “Answer me.”

Silence.

“Amie.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“That’s correct.”

Amie lifted her head; her brows were knit and her gaze was set. “So I’m going to tell you what I wanted to tell her.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what’s that?”

“I’m going to go get hurt and you can’t stop me.” She turned on her heel. “’Cause that’s how I want to learn. On my own.” She began to walk away. “So you get to put that in all your thinking about me and figure out what that means for _you_ and what _you’re_ going to do from now on.” She did not look back.

She did not know how long she walked before her hands began to twist around the handles of the hammer and chisel. Without thinking, without caring, she shifted them back down. Scowling, she crossed her arms tightly and stomped onward. She kicked at snowdrifts and whispered curses at nameless targets. Her eyes remained locked on her shoes, watching the scuffed toecap pop out of and disappear into the snow as she walked. She kept her head down and her eyes narrow against the anger and the wind that pulled at her hair.

Because her shoes kept her feet warm, it was not as painful as it could have been when she stubbed her toes beneath the snow. Swearing loudly, she hopped on one foot to try and grab at the other to grasp the stinging and push it into submission. She hit the same hard edge under the powder, and she fell forward with a startled yelp. The snow cushioned her fall just enough to keep her hands from scraping, but she could feel the roughness of pavement under her fingertips. Frowning, she pushed and brushed the snow away.

Amie knelt on a road. When she looked up, she saw the snow growing thinner and thinner over the pavement. She finally lifted her head from its long bowed place; her jaw slowly dropped. With hesitation stiffening her knees, she stood up.

She stood on the edge of a city, somehow unnoticed until she fell. Its buildings were made of black steel and gleaming glass; worn gray concrete and smudged windows; beaten wood and broken slats. She turned to look over her shoulder. All that lay there was snow and the faint hills she had traversed. She could see her small footprints and nothing more. Swallowing, she turned back around and began to walk forward.

Though she had closed her mouth when she strode forward, her lips still parted and her eyes widened. She stared up at the buildings so completely unfamiliar to a suburban dweller. The skyscrapers all but stole away the sight of Skaia: the streets were dark and the sky had jumped from predawn to full dusk. She cast long shadows under the sickly yellow light of streetlamps, and she set her feet down carefully on the pavement to be quiet.

That effort, however, was usurped the closer she drew to an alleyway. The noise of motion and speech drifted onto the sidewalk, and she advanced slowly through the path between buildings. Because she did not look from side to side when she emerged, she walked straight into someone.

The sight of gray skin made Amie freeze where she stood. The eyes that looked down at her were colored muddy brown, and ragged fangs jutted up from the man’s mouth. The horns coming from his short black hair curved back simply, as Timsprite’s did. The man reached out a hand, but she could not draw out her chisel with her shoulders so stiffened by fright. The hand landed on her shoulder and, with an annoyed growl from the troll, she was pushed aside. She nodded at him as he walked away; she scooted to stand with her back to the nearest wall.

There were trolls everywhere. They stood haggling at vendor stalls; they walked arm in arm, hand in hand; they argued at the tops of their lungs. At one end of the street, two were brawling: they yanked weapons from their strife decks and went at each other’s throats. No one moved to stop them, instead going on with their own affairs without missing a beat. She saw a spray of bright green splatter on the ground, and her stomach lurched when she saw that the green was blood flowing down one troll’s face.

It was while she watched the wounded troll scream curses at his assailant before absconding that she was approached. Amie jumped when she turned to face him. The man was a troll like any other, all gray skin and jutting fangs on his lower lip. His horns curved out and up to end in an arrowhead point, and the center of his eyes were colored deep dark red. His tank top showed off the musculature in his arms, and the symbol on his shirt, dyed the same color as his eyes, was one she recognized as Sagittarius. He stared down at her, and his large, squared shoulders cast a shadow over her as he advanced. His boots, over the massive feet that stood at the end of his long, jean covered legs, scraped loudly on the pavement.

“He-hello,” she said.

Silence.

“I’m not—” She looked at the wall behind her for a second. “I’m not in your way or anything, right?”

“ _Laurent_.”

“Why do you know my name? Did Timsprite tell you?”

His heavy brows dropped; his eyes narrowed. “Laurent the Seer.”

She blinked, lifting a brow as one corner of her mouth pulled into her cheek. “Well...yeah? What?”

He moved to stand in front of her; he put his right hand on the wall beside her. When she tried to move away, he slammed his left hand down on her other side. She discovered he only had his pointer finger and thumb on his hand when she whipped her head about to look at his arm. She fought against the wobbling of her knees and won out.

“What the hell?” she snapped. “What do you want?”

“Rapoto.”

“Wha—who?” She flinched when he took her face in his damaged hand, but could not pull free.

“I want my prey, human. You’re going to bring her to me.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped short. The street had fallen into silence. When she looked past him, she could see every other troll had turned toward them. She looked back to him. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You do. She’s been talking to you.”

Amie stopped breathing. “You’re one of the things that lives on this planet—a consort. You—you’re a troll like Timsprite. Why do you know about her?”

He tapped her chin with the back of his finger. “Yeah, I’m a troll, but I’m not any fucking consort of yours. Rapoto’s the one who did this to me. To my hand. She’s responsible for all of this.” He released her face, but grabbed her by the throat with his other hand. “I know that she’s watching you. I saw you on her screen before we were brought here.”

She held tight to his fingers, trying to pry them open as her heartbeat began to run wild. “Why do you think I matter? She was trolling me before!” She choked when he tightened his grip.

“I watched you too,” he said. “Your first real strife on your planet? Your breaking the statue to even get in here? You had the Mindgrip on you.”

“The—the what?”

“She had her filthy fucking hands all over your weak mind, making you do all the things you were piss-your-pants scared to.”

“I’m not—”

“We all are, human. She’s always ready to use the Mindgrip on all of us, and she’s been fucking using you like a puppet.” He pushed her harder against the wall. “She wants you for something, making sure that you don’t fuck things up on your own.”

 _Look, Seer._

“And if I fuck _you_ up, then she’s going to come fix it.”

 _What does a Seer do? What is her purpose?_

She could barely breathe. Her eyes started to close.

 _A Seer scries. **Look** , Seer._

Amie opened her left eye. At first, she believed it was from the lack of air, but the more she focused, the more she realized the black spot in the man’s arm, in the crook of his elbow, had not been there before. Its edges shimmered, swaying back and forth in time with a heartbeat. She looked at his face and saw his wild smile. She looked past him and saw the crowd advancing silently.

Frantically, she reached out her hand and punched her knuckles into the black as hard as she could. His arm spasmed, fingers tightening once more before releasing her throat. As she gasped for air, sinking down, the gathered trolls charged forward with a roar. They grabbed the man and wrestled him back footstep by halting footstep. Coughing, wheezing, she stared at the ground. Time, caught in her adrenalin soaked senses, slowed down. The man’s foot came down, and a vast black spot appeared at his heel. She lifted her head.

“Get back!” she shouted. The mob released the man and, before he could run toward her, she drew the Firestorm Chisel and cracked the pavement with a vicious swing. The lightning sped along the break lines and wrapped around him. Tiny explosions were sparked on his skin, and he howled as his body was rocked by the force. She stared. When a hand closed around her upper arm, she spun about with the chisel raised. Her wrist was caught and held still.

“Come on!” the woman troll said. She pulled Amie to her feet before taking her by the hand. In an instant, Amie was being dragged through the streets and dark alleyways.

“Where are we going?” she asked in a shout.

“The Rogue’s Gallery!” was the reply. “He won’t be able to get to you there!”

“Why not?”

“Because the Rogue never lets him in!”

“But—who’s the—” Her question was swallowed up by a yelp when the troll yanked her forward. With her shoulders in hand, the woman leaped down a stairwell leading far into the ground. They landed, heels scraping and sliding on the pavement, before an iron doorway. The troll pounded her fist on the door, and a slat grated open. A pair of blue stained gold eyes looked from the woman to Amie, and the slat closed once more. With a great creaking, the door swung open, and Amie was hurried inside before the door was banged shut.

The room was almost silent. Trolls milled here and there, sitting at tables and at the long counter of the bar in the far corner. If she listened hard enough, she could hear traces of music floating from somewhere. She caught sight of a jukebox gleaming in the dim light on the other side of the room as she made her way to the bar with the woman at her side. They sat on the stools left empty by trolls who stood at their approach. With dark green and dull orange eyes, they nodded when Amie thanked them and went away silently.

“So—we’re...in a bar?”

“Yeah,” the woman said. She lifted a hand, flashing two fingers at the bartender before bowing her head. She let out a long breath, rubbing at the base of one of her thick curving horns. It and its twin had small offshoots halfway up, the tips curling completely around to rub against the main horn. When the bartender arrived with two glasses filled by brown liquid, she waved a hand in thanks and pushed one to sit in front of Amie before picking up the other. “Bottom’s up.”

She stared at the glass, squirming where she sat. “Um...I’m still a minor.”

“A _what_?”

“A minor. It’s illegal for me to drink alcohol. This is alcohol, right?”

The woman stared, a brow raised over blue eyes, and sighed. “More for me then.” She took a long drink from the first glass, grimacing a moment when she had swallowed.

“What is this place?” Amie asked. “Other than a bar, I mean. You called it a refuge.”

“Yeah.” Another drink; another grimace. “This is the place the Rogue set up for us when she was working her way up the echeladder. We brought her information, she brought back the heads of archagents and huge underlings.”

“Arch...agents?”

“Major players from Derse. They wanted— _want_ —to bring down the players and make sure Skaia burns.” She lifted the glass, but paused to swirl the liquor. “The Rogue, the Page, and the Prince all made plans here on how to bring down the Black Army without there being a lot of backlash against us consorts.” She smirked and snickered. “And they did it.”

“Wait, so you’re all really consorts? But that guy said that he wasn’t.”

“He’s the Heir of Rage. He’s going to get pissed if you confuse him with a consort. But,” she said with a chuckle, “let’s face it. We do look like the trolls from Alternia.”

“Alternia?”

She took another drink. “The planet where all the trolls came from. Like your Earth for you. The Prince thought the Rogue’s planet had us as consorts because she needed to learn how to act as part of a group. And she really fucking did, but it worked out.” She gestured with a small sweep of her hand. “All this? This place and the peace she brought to the Land of Dusk and Cloaks? It’s what the players are supposed to do.”

“But we’re not on that planet,” Amie said quietly. “This is the Land of Snow and Crystals.”

The woman paused. Her head twitched to one side; her eyes narrowed. She set down the glass and closed her eyes tightly. “It...yeah.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not. This is the Land of Snow and Crystals, you’re right.”

“Then why are there these huge buildings? This is a city, right? I don’t think there was going to be any big city on my planet, and I don’t think my consorts were supposed to be people from a place I’ve never heard of.” She turned in her seat to face the woman square on, hands gripping the cushion of the stool tightly enough that the leather squeaked. “What’s going on?”

The woman’s head twitched again. “Look, I don’t—I don’t really know. We think the Rogue knows, but we can’t fucking _find_ her.”

“But if she’s the person that guy said she is—if she’s Devaki—then she’s been messaging me.”

“She ever tell you where she is?”

A pause. “She said...that she was somewhere where a lot of people were playing games with time. That wasn’t with you?”

“We don’t have any tech that lets us play around with time. Only the troll players have that. We can’t reach her.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Amie said, patting her hands in the air. “Why is it so important that you guys find her right now? You said she made things all peaceful for you guys on your planet.”

“We’re not _on_ Lodac. This _is_ Losac, but—but we’re not sure what’s happening now. It’s like the denizen and its underlings are back, and that maybe it’s not just one denizen. That maybe it’s the Rogue’s _and_ yours.”

“So...I would have to fight two huge monsters?” She swallowed. “On my own?”

The woman sighed. “We don’t know. We found...well, we found a dead troll. The Heir did. She was one of the players from their session.”

“Wait, _what_?” Her hands tightened on the cushion until her knuckles ached. “And you’re all sure it wasn’t Devaki?”

“No, it was...” She frowned and rubbed at her head. “The...Thief of Doom, I think. She never came to our planet before. We’re not sure why her body was here, but the Heir knew who she was.” She snorted. “You can guess how the Heir of Rage reacted to that.”

Her voice dropped. “He was pissed.”

“He was pissed.”

Amie looked down. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“We need to find the other troll players, but mostly the Rogue, the Prince, and the Maid.” Frowning, she downed the rest of her first glass in one breath and slammed it down on the bar when she was finished. “We’re going to do the same thing we did for the Rogue for you. Getting all the information in the city, and the whole planet if we can.” She met Amie’s gaze evenly. “We need you guys to win the game just as much as we needed the trolls to win. Otherwise we _all_ fucking die.”

She breathed slowly. Her heartbeat was strong in her chest, but it was not racing. She paused and took a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you.” Another pause. “Um...do you have a name I can call you? I named my sprite Tim, but he hates it and I don’t want to give you a name you don’t like.”

The woman blinked. “Oh. The Rogue named me Mitsis when we first met.”

“Mitsis?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Amie smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. It’s a cool name.” She let go of the cushion and put her hands on her knees, patting them in a broken rhythm. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Back when that guy was, uh, choking me? I heard something in my head. It told me to look, like a seer’s supposed to. And then I was able to see where I had to hit him to make him let me go.” She lifted one hand to rub the back of her head, but stopped halfway and put her hand on the bar. “Did I...go insane a little?”

Mitsis snickered. “No, no. You just heard your exile.”

“My _what_?”

“The Rogue wanted to explain it to me, but she said she didn’t really know how to explain it without the Prince helping her. She gets confused about time stuff.” She scratched one side of her nose. “You should ask her about it when you guys talk next.”

“You sound pretty sure that she’s really going to send me another message.”

A chuckle. “You don’t think she will?”

Amie’s smile returned, soft and slow. “Actually, I do. And I hope it’ll be soon.”

\-------  
Hear your EXILE in the meteor laboratory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What made this chapter interesting and an interesting challenge was due to the fact that it's been a while since I focused on Amie, but still had all these other events and conversations from the other chapters influencing what you good folks know and how you think. That I've introduced more of the major players--even in passing--is also quite fun. The Heir and the Page are particularly interesting people, but we'll get there. And finally, my god do I love making Amie and Devaki bounce off each other. They're becoming very fun.


	9. Necessary Paradoxes

You are HUGH THE HEIR, a HALF-DROWNED HUMAN.

Honestly, even if you hadn’t BROKEN THREE RIBS in your fall on LOTAR, you’d have been in TROUBLE. You don’t like to ADMIT it, but you’re NOT VERY GOOD AT SWIMMING. So you’re LUCKY, VERY LUCKY INDEED, to have THAT PERSON THERE for a FRIEND.

Oh, you’re still not very conscious. That must be why THAT PERSON is CARRYING YOU through the LAB.

Hmm. If you’re not AWAKE, you must not know where you ARE. That’s UNDERSTANDABLE, but it’s rather INCONVENIENT. And dreadfully BORING. THAT PERSON is interesting, but YOU’RE the person this viewport is FOCUSED ON.

Come now. You’re not going to just LAY THERE in THAT PERSONS’ ARMS, are you? You have so many IMPORTANT THINGS to do. You can’t do ANYTHING if you keep NOT BREATHING. Stop playing around, HUGH. You need to WAKE UP.

Now what’s HE...?

Oh, WONDERFUL!

He’s a HERO OF TIME as well!  
\-----

His ribcage reversed its breaking; the water in his lungs swept back up his throat and flew from his mouth. Consciousness was restored in a painful heartbeat, and Hugh rolled over onto his stomach with a strangled wheeze. Coughing, he clawed at the floor with one hand and at his throat with the other. Panic blinded him; he rolled onto one side and kicked at the air because he was certain he had been dragged back from the water to be eaten. When a hand fell heavily on his shoulder, he coughed louder than before and threw a flailing punch.

His arm slowed to a halt, pushing through the air as though it was thick soup before stopping. His heartbeat dropped; his breathing stilled. He was not growing calm, lying there. Around him was a faint red gleam, and he knew that he was being frozen in time

A hand closed around his fist and another took hold of the back of his sodden shirt. He was hauled to his feet and made to stand straight-backed and arms at his sides. Though the gray-skinned man before him was taller by barely more than an inch, Hugh could not keep from looking up at him. Where Hugh was blocky and square, the man was broad and flowing. He wore a sleeveless shirt with a symbol Hugh did not recognize dyed a peculiar, dark shade of violet; bands of gold cut across his biceps. A small necklace hung around his neck, a ruby set at its center and resting in the curve of his collarbones. His hair was short, but showed faint waves in the streaks of that same purple from his shirt at his temples. From his hair came long horns, curving inward before arcing back out to sharp points. Hugh could see gills at his neck, and his swept-back, pointed ears had small spines with webbing spread between them.

Hugh felt as though his ears had popped, and he felt time resume. He began to cough once more, stumbling away from the man and staring at him. The man lifted a heavy brow, blinking gold eyes centered by the same violet speckled on his person.

“So,” he said, “you’re my counterpart player.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re British,” Hugh hacked. “You sound like the fucking prince of England or something.”

“And you sound exactly like my favorite fucking mutant,” the man said. He snickered. “Bet she’s confused as hell by your friends having the same accent as her. Then again, she might not even notice it if she happens to see what color your blood is.”

Hugh stared.

“So,” the man said, clapping his hands together, “let’s get started.”

“Who the fuck _are_ you?”

“What?”

Hugh took another step back. “Who are you? Where are we?”

The man looked at him with both brows raised a moment. When it passed, he rolled his eyes and growled a sigh. The sight of fangs filling the man’s mouth made Hugh take yet another step away.

“Fuck, brother,” the man said. “The way you acted when I first got here, I thought you’d be smart. Guess I’m shit outta luck for a while.”

“How am I supposed to be smart about anything when some freaky shark alien guy just appears the hell out of nowhere?” Hugh shouted. “And what the fuck do you mean how I acted? I’ve only just met you!”

 _Now now, just calm down and ask him his name politely._

He screeched, slapping at the air by his ears. “What the fuck was that?”

 _Oh dear._

He slapped at the air again before simply clutching his ears and staring at the man before him. “What the fuck? _What the fuck_ , are you psychic or something? Who’s talking in my head?”

“An exile,” the man said lightly.

“What?”

The man frowned. “Listen, brother. I _have_ all the time in the universe, but not a lot of patience. Stop losing your shit already. We’ve got work to do.”

 _Ask him his name! He looks polite enough to introduce himself._

Hugh stared. He breathed in fluttering gasps. Slowly he swallowed and slowly he spoke. “Okay. Okay. So—you—you called me brother.”

“Yeah, that I did.”

“Are you avantGuide?”

The man smirked. “There we go. I figured you wouldn’t _really_ be a dumbass if you pulled me out of our session. Sure, I had a big fucking hand in it, but you can’t be stupid if you can do what the emperor tells you to.”

“What’s your name though?”

“Azriel Makram, emperor of all trolls.” He snickered after a pause. “And of you humans, of course.”

“Trolls? Wait, Amie wasn’t wrong when she called that statue a troll?”

“Brother, I have no idea what your Seer sister said about shit. Look, we have things to do and time tricks to pull. Let’s go.”

With neither a word nor a gesture, he turned on his heels and started away; Hugh hurried after him. They walked through poorly lit hallways that could have been duplicated from any hospital or laboratory Hugh had ever been in, Azriel leading the way past walls stained with gray liquids and red rust. The tiles under their feet were broken in places; the shards crunched and creaked when stepped upon. There was no faltering in the troll’s steps, and so it took very little time to arrive in a room filled with empty vats, raised platforms covered in etchings, and an enormous computer console dominating one wall.

“That proves that theory,” Azriel said in a sigh.

“What theory?”

“That these places are identical from game to game. Took the third gate off the leader’s planet, which goes to the transportalizer we came in on here, and four lefts and down some steps. It was the same getting off the Land of Sea and Gears.” He went to the console and swept aside pieces of broken glass. “The only thing that’s different is that shit’s broken. My lab didn’t have any problems.”

“Okay, seriously, where _are_ we?”

“Right, yeah.” Azriel tapped the keyboard with one hand and spun a trackball with the other. He kept his gaze focused on the console’s four screens. When the uppermost right corner flickered on, he spoke. “There we go. All right, brother, take a look.”

Each screen was cracked in some places, and the one alight showed dead pixels at the hearts of its cracks. There was no static to see past, however, and the image playing there was clear. Hugh saw a small boy sitting on a porch. His hair was harshly cut, the black strands spiking up naturally. The boy’s lower lip was swollen; blood leaked from a gash that went from lip to chin. Scowling, hunched over his bent knees, the boy stared at the ground with watery gold eyes.

Hugh lifted his hand to his face and touched his chin. He rubbed at his skin, tracing the cut he saw on the boy’s face. A murmur: “Liam has a scar on his chin like that.”

“That’s when he fucking got it, brother.”

“What?”

“This computer locks onto space-time coordinates,” Azriel said. “We’re seeing your Thief of Mind when he was a wriggler.”

“Kid.”

“Don’t correct me.”

“But why are we seeing this?”

Azriel paused, hand hovering over a large blue button. He took his hand away with a wave. “Push this.”

“Why?”

“Because the emperor fucking told you to.” At Hugh’s angry sigh, he smirked. “I’ve got good reasons to tell you to do stuff, brother. Trust me.”

“Fine,” he sighed. He stepped to stand at Azriel’s side and pushed the button. Behind them, machines squealed and came to life. Hugh turned to see, for an instant, a human figure made of dark green slime standing atop a platform set between a quartet of vats. With a lazy splat, the sludge fell formlessly onto the platform; with a noisy gurgle it was sucked through a pipe into one of the vats.

“That should be his custodian,” Azriel said.

Hugh turned back, spotting the whipcord of a man that had moved to stand by the bleeding boy and the target reticule over him before the screen flickered and died. The screen immediately below it turned on, revealing an old woman with a squirming baby girl in her arms. Though her hair was light with age, its sleek silver straightness spoke of its dark color in youth. Despite her wrinkles, she was lively, playing with the baby’s tiny feet and laughing in a silence enforced by the console.

“And I’m thinking this is the ancestor of your Bard, based on appearances.”

“Who, Vita? No, she said she was adopted. It’s just been her and her dad all her life.”

A pause. He smirked and showed his fangs. “Push the button, brother.”

He did, causing more whirring and noise. A glance told him another of the vats had been filled, and he turned back to watch the screens change. The bottom left screen flickered to life. A small girly with long, wavy brown hair sat on a carpeted floor with paper spread all around her. She scribbled on the page before her carefully, tongue between her teeth as she ran the crayons here and there. A door swung open, and the girl took to her feet with a nervous smile. She held up the most recent of drawings to the slender woman who had entered.

“Push the button, brother.”

“Wait a minute.”

The woman patted the girl on the head with a small smile, and then took her gently by the wrist. The image followed them, showing him that they went to a room with a piano. The woman sat on the bench, gesturing for the girl to stand at her side. Tapping the girl’s chin once, she began to play. There was still no sound, but Hugh knew the girl sang alongside the woman’s playing. He frowned.

“That’s Amie, isn’t it.”

“Your Seer? Yeah, she’s the little one.”

“I didn’t know she could sing.”

Azriel shrugged. “Looks pretty fucking sad about it, if you ask me.”

A pause. “Yeah.” He pressed the button and did not look back at the sounds. He instead focused on the final screen and the image it presented. A man, square and ruddy-faced and chin covered in stubble from the late hour, sat beside a boy at a table. They sat bent over paper and books, a pencil held inexpertly in the boy’s small hand. The man nodded every so often, and reached to point out formulas printed in the pages of the open books.

“I was having trouble with math,” Hugh whispered. “I didn’t get numbers. This is me in second grade. That’s my dad.”

“Figured. Push the button.”

“Tell me what I’m doing.”

“Listen to the emperor and you’ll see.”

He frowned. “If you’re going to keep calling yourself the emperor, why are you calling me ‘brother’? We’re not family—I barely even fucking know you, man.”

“Everyone’s my brother. Your Seer and Bard? My Rogue and my Witch? My sisters. You’re all mine. I don’t hate you, so you’re all my relations and you don’t have to worry about it. Now you need to push the fucking button and finish this up.”

“Fine.” He tapped the button and turned to the vats. A fourth figure in the shape of his father appeared on the platform and was sucked into the last empty vat. “Now what are we doing here?”

“You’re the leader of your session. That means you’re the ectobiologist.”

A pause. “The what now?”

Azriel grinned. “You’ll see.”

The machines began to squeal loudly, letters flashing on the screens below the vats too quickly for Hugh to understand. Sparks spat from seams in the metal. He jumped backward when arcs of lightning danced along the surface of another platform, much larger than the one betwixt the vats, on the floor. In a flash, four young infants, two boys and two girls, clad in diapers appeared.

“Holy _shit_!” He spun to face Azriel, eyes wide and face pale. “What did you make me do?” He pointed to the platform and shouted, “Who the hell are these kids?”

Azriel took hold of Hugh’s wrist and made him push a green button. The slime in the vats was shunted into two different sections of the machine, and more code skittered across the screens. Again, lightning sparked and light flashed. Four more infants joined the first quartet, two boys and two girls once again, and Hugh’s jaw dropped. He stared as Azriel walked to the platform and stood at its center.

“Fuck, brother,” he snickered. “You humans have the softest looking wrigglers.” He tilted his head at the touch of a small hand to his foot. Chuckling, he sat down slowly and picked up the baby girl patting his feet to hold her in the air. “Hey there, sister.”

“Dude, _wait_! You’re gonna scare them!” He rushed over, fully intending to pluck the girl from his hands. When he arrived, though, the girl was giggling and holding onto Azriel’s horns.

“There’s a brave little Seer,” Azriel said. “Already getting to know her king.”

“Why—” He screeched at the sensation of his jeans being tugged at. Another of the girls was at his feet, hanging onto his pant leg with a serious face. He stared; the girl stared right back at him with hard green eyes. He grimaced and looked away. “Why—why’d you call that one a seer? Who are these kids?”

Azriel laughed again and put the girl atop his left shoulder. She sat there calmly, cooing quietly and holding onto his horn both for balance and to examine the texture. “Brother, you don’t recognize them?” He looked about before holding a hand out and pointing at the boy beneath it. “You don’t recognize _this_ little brother?”

His voice cracked when he demanded, “Why the hell am I going to recognize little babies, for Christ’s sake?”

With a snicker, he leaned over carefully and picked the boy up. He held him out to Hugh. “Take a good look at his face, brother. Doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

When Azriel wiggled the boy from side to side, making his head tip back and forth, Hugh yanked him from the troll’s hands with an affronted snort. “Dude, _seriously_ , stop that! Human babies are really delicate!”

“Tell that to this little sister here,” he replied, patting the head of the girl on his shoulder. She giggled, patting at the spines of his ear in turn. “Fuck, brother, I don’t know how it is that she gets to be all scared later. She’s all over seeing who the fuck I am.”

“ _Who are these kids_?”

“That wriggler you’ve got there? Look at his eyes, brother.”

“Why?” He glanced at them, frowned, and said, “They’re just blue. A lot of babies have blue eyes.”

“The same freaky bright color you’ve got going on in _your_ eyes, brother?”

“My eyes—what do my eyes have to do with anything?”

Azriel sighed. “Okay, brother. Time for schooling. That machine you used? That’s called an appearifier. It makes things appear, and you were hitting buttons to make the people that the computer locked onto appear.”

“They didn’t appear anywhere, man, we just got a bunch of slime.”

“With a fucking ton of genetic code. And what came out of that coded slime?”

“These...kids?”

“Right. We’re ectobiologists, brother. We deal with paradoxes.”

“Wait, paradoxes? So, we tried to appearify our...parents?”

“Right. But we couldn’t actually make them appear because then we would cause a paradox. They were already in the time stream, so we just got paradox imprints.”

“But we didn’t try to appearify Vita’s dad—”

“Brother, who’d I say was her fucking ancestor? Did I say anything about some guy?”

“But the old woman isn’t her mom—Vita doesn’t even know who her mom _is_ , for God’s sake.”

“Your guardian ever tell you who _your_ mom was?”

“Yeah, she—” He froze. “He said she—he said...that...”

“Never said a word, right?” He smirked. “So we appearified your ancestors. Your dad, the guy with your Thief, and the women with your Seer and Bard. So where did these _other_ little wrigglers come from, huh?”

He looked up to the machine. “The...slime got separated into two groups and then more kids appeared.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Then...” He lifted the boy in his hands, staring at the soft, round face. “Then...the genetic code got mixed and split up into two groups. Two sets. Sets of...siblings?” He looked from the boy to the girl on Azriel’s shoulder. She looked back at him with a mild expression, violet eyes calm. “That girl and the boy I have are one. They look like _twins_ , Christ. They’re genetically related and derived from the people we appearified.”

“Yeah, that’s the truth.”

His eyes fell open; his throat twitched. Carefully, he put the boy back into Azriel’s hands and walked away. He went to the corner farthest from the platform and the troll and the infants, got onto his knees, and vomited. When his stomach was empty, he was consumed by dry heaves. He choked and coughed and began to cry. He did not turn around at the sound of steady footsteps that stopped behind him.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he hissed. “What the fuck what the fuck _what the fuck_! You’re telling me I fucking _created_ us? That we were never born and just got made out of some fucking slime?” He stopped abruptly and snatched at his shirt. He slapped his stomach when it was bared and nearly succumbed to dry heaves once more when he found smooth skin. “Ohhhhh _fuck_! I fucking thought I didn’t have a belly button because it just fucking healed like that! I was never _born_?”

“And my brothers and sisters just got dropped by the brooding caverns, no hatching or being laid by the Mother Grub. Got rolled back inside by the watchers in the dark to pupate, and we all passed the tests and got picked up by our lusii. Same to our ancestors. And I’m the one who created us.”

He finally turned about, rising onto shaky legs. “How in God’s name does that _not_ freak you the fuck out? We’re—we’re fucking playing _God_ with ourselves! We aren’t normal human beings!”

Azriel grinned. “No, brother, you’re _better_.” He gestured to the girl on his shoulder with one hand and at the black haired boy clinging viciously to his leg with the other. “These little wrigglers? They were meant for greatness. They were created for the purpose of this game and its brilliant fucking goal.”

“ _What goal_?” Hugh screamed.

The girl let out a whimper, and Azriel shushed her before raising a brow at Hugh. “You’re scaring your sister.”

“I don’t care! What goal are you talking about?”

Azriel put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re creating universes, brother. I’m always the emperor, but here? In this universe of yours, and even this session? I am a _god_ , brother. The God of Time, with the God of Mind at my right hand.” His grin widened; his eyes closed partway. “And I intend to have more gods join me.”

“We’re not gods! Jesus Christ, we’re just fucking humans! We were supposed to be playing a _game_!”

“Did you think you would really be having dreams on Prospit about some stupid little wriggler’s game? Your dreams were there to show you what you were going to have to do, not to show you a bunch of sparkly hoofbeast shit.” He jabbed his finger in Hugh’s chest. “You’re the Heir, brother. It’s about time you lived up to it.”

He slapped Azriel’s hand away with a snarl. “Don’t fucking tell me to live up to being the Heir! If I knew what this game was going to do, I wouldn’t have made us play it!”

“No, you would have. You always would, no matter what doomed timeline you make. Because no matter what, brother, you have to get to _this point_. Otherwise, you don’t fucking exist anymore. And these other wrigglers? Your _sister_? They don’t exist, either. They’re alive because of you, and they would be dead because of you if you kept throwing fucking fits about all this.”

“And you’re telling me that it’s never even crossed your mind?” Hugh snapped. “Being responsible for creating all of your teammates and how insanely huge that is?”

“Brother, I was happy as all hell when I figured out what I was doing in my lab.”

“ _What_?”

“Here, take this little bastard; he’s starting to chew on me.” He bent down and pulled the boy off his leg, putting him into Hugh’s hands. The boy stared at Hugh, gold eyes massive, before swiping at Azriel with a scowl on his pudgy face. “I was excited. It meant that I was chosen to be the person responsible for all of us—that I was _already_ responsible for creating these people of mine because they were all here. And even better? I fucking made _me_ , brother. There was no hand but _mine_ in my creation. If that’s not something an emperor would do, I don’t fucking know what would be.” His grinned returned, wider than before. “It’s sure as fuck what a god would do, and it just tells me that I was always meant to be a god-king.”

“But I’m not a god or a king, for fuck’s sake! I’m not like you!”

“Did you think you’d get all the glory by just fucking around all the time? Brother, do you think I’m just gnashing my fangs over here? I’m making sure I take care of shit, and since I’m a god that had a major part in creating your universe, that means I’m also taking care of all this shit. You’re a Hero of Time, brother. You want to just shoot your teammates in the knees and fucking abscond like a coward?”

Hugh opened his mouth and was forced to close it. He looked at the girl on Azriel’s shoulder; she looked back at him. He grimaced and could not swallow. “No.”

“Good, because I’ve got no fucking patience for cowards.” He smirked and clapped a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “We’ll make a proper hero out of you, brother. Don’t worry.”

Something shattered behind them.

By the time Hugh looked past him, Azriel was already turned about with a silver handgun in his right hand. The same mark that was on his shirt was engraved and painted the same color on the barrel, and faint wisps of blue mist rose from the seams of the chamber. He stared beyond the platform; none of the children had moved far from where they had appeared. They remained there, but all of their heads were turned toward the single doorway into the room.

Azriel walked with his arm held out before him, moving around the platform in the floor as he went. He stopped at its edge and crouched down to deposit the girl before continuing. When he reached the doorway, he pressed his back to the wall and peeked around the corner.

“Do you see anything?” Hugh asked.

“No, but we shouldn’t have _heard_ a damn thing aside from what we’re doing.” He scowled. “That explains why there’s broken shit everywhere.” He stepped away from the wall, tossing the gun aside to shift it back into his strife deck. He turned back. “We have to pull the time tricks now. I don’t want them here if something’s going on.”

“What would be going on?”

“Anything that’s going on _here_ that doesn’t involve us is something wrong. The players have to be created and sent back through time in order for this game to even start. It’s a self-fulfilling paradox. That means nothing can fuck with these little wrigglers before the Reckoning happens, or everything folds in on itself and explodes.”

“The Reckoning?”

“You ever talk to your sprite about Skaia and all that shit?”

“Yeah,” Hugh said. “He said that Derse wins the war no matter what happens.”

“Right. That’s part of the self-fulfilling paradox. Derse _has_ to win in order for the Reckoning to happen, which has to happen for you to go back in time and grow up in order to start the game and the war. The Reckoning happens when Derse takes the scepter of the White King—it’s a fucking firing squad of meteors aimed right at Skaia.”

“Then why aren’t we pulling time tricks to stop the Reckoning? Isn’t Skaia important?”

“The paradox has to happen, and that means Derse has to try to take down Skaia. Skaia can protect itself a little bit using gates that launch the meteors through space-time, and these wrigglers have to be riding on those meteors to go back in time.”

“You want to put babies on giant fucking meteors?”

“Brother, you being here should tell you that riding meteors is just fine. Put the little bastard down and get over here.”

Hesitantly, he set the boy back on the platform and went to Azriel’s side. “So what time tricks are we going to pull?”

“We, my time brother, are going to lure whatever fucking underlings are running around out of here and then launch this lab forward in the timeline.”

“What.”

“You’ve been doing the personal timeline dance, brother—just affecting you and where you are. But when there’s two Heroes of Time—one _God_ of Time—you can make a place like this go whenever the fuck you want. Just a matter of fine-tuning everything.” He grinned, patting Hugh on the back with one hand and uncurling the fingers of the other in front of Hugh’s face. “And you and your wrenches, brother, will be providing the fine-tuning.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“We have to lure the underlings out. That means, for now, these little wrigglers and this room have to be undamaged. I can make them a special little time bubble, one where no one but a time player can fuck with it and that I can send forward, but I want you to figure out the exact points on the timeline where it’s best for the wrigglers, the room, and the equipment to get stopped in relation to the rest of the lab.”

He stared at the troll, but swallowed and nodded once. He took a wrench in each hand and caught hold of two separate gears in the air. One gear moved fluidly with the slightest pressure, and he saw flickers in the past of an undamaged console with no broken glass to be found. He thought he saw a shape against the screen when he brought the gear forward slightly, but continued to let the gear move to see only two minutes before, with all the machines activated and a clock frozen above the console.

The other gear did not want to move; his hand nearly slid from the wrench in his efforts to turn it. Azriel put a hand atop his, and the gear squealed as it shuddered backward. The infants blipped out of existence, and back in when the angle of the gear was adjusted. It was turned back until it was only the moment after Hugh had set the boy down, and he held both gears where they were. The children stopped moving; the machines grew quiet.

“That’s a perfect setup, brother.” Azriel moved before him, touching both gears as he went. Copies of the gears came away with his hands, hovering immobile beneath his fingers. He strode to the opposite side of the platform, examining the gears carefully. When he was across from Hugh, he put his hands together. The gears shattered and reformed into a single gear, and he put his fingertips on one tooth. “Ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Time skip under our feet, brother. Get ready to jump.” He tilted up his elbow, threw his hand down, and made the gear spin. The gears under Hugh’s control hummed, resonating so fiercely that it made his arms vibrate with holding onto his wrenches. The room flickered around them, bolts of red tinged lightning crackling along every hard surface. For a moment, he nearly shouted at Azriel, nearly let go of the gears. It was the sight of the clock’s countdown whirring by that made him keep his grip steady, and he held on until it reached zero.

The room shifted completely without moving an inch, and he wobbled once before tipping backward. Azriel caught him under one arm and dragged him from the room still alight with electricity. When they reached the hallway, Hugh discovered he had stopped breathing. He sucked in a deep rush of air to compensate while Azriel drew his gun.

“All right, brother,” he said. “We saw that the trick worked with no interference. Now we get to work.”

“But we just sent it forward in time, right? What are we supposed to do?”

“Think about it. We didn’t affect its space, right? Galina’s not here, and your Bard isn’t that powerful yet. That means it’s still _here_ , at least until the Reckoning happens and the wrigglers actually get sent out on the meteors.”

“So...until it actually does happen...we have to make sure that nothing _can_ affect the room or the kids. We _did_ send it forward in time, but that doesn’t completely remove it from the timeline.”

“Right. We just put it in a bubble. If everything around the bubble gets blown to fuck, then it wouldn’t have worked. Time players see the outcome of timelines, and then we make the timeline we want work.”

“Then we’re still luring the underlings out the old fashioned way.”

Azriel chuckled. “Interested in seeing how a god fights, brother?”

Hugh managed to smile. “I think I’ll learn a lot more by working with you than by listening to Samsprite.”

He laughed, his smile showing a great swath of his fangs. “The woofbeast might be a good talker, but nothing compares to a god, my time brother! Now come on!”

They sprinted away from the lab, leaving behind the red glow as they rushed up the stairs. At the first fork in the halls, Azriel slid to a stop. In his slide he turned about, and in his turn he spun the gun around his finger. A blue glow suffused the gun as it turned upside down, and the glow brightened to a flash on the revolution’s completion. However, when the flash faded, Azriel had brought up his other hand to catch the longer, larger barrel of a shotgun. Grinning, he pumped the gun, set the butt against his shoulder, and fired.

The roar was tremendous; glowing shards of blue sprayed from the barrel, slashing the walls and peppering the floor and ceiling. He fired the shotgun three more times, ejecting gleaming shells with each pump. The hallway still rang with noise when he spun the gun and returned it to a handgun form. When he looked at Hugh, he laughed aloud at the way he had clapped his hands to his ears.

“Best way to make fuckers notice us, brother!” he said after pulling one hand away. “They should be crawling out of the walls to figure out where we are now!”

He pointed at the gun and asked, “What the hell is that thing?”

“This lovely little thing? The Emperor’s Darling, brother.” He shrugged. “I use gunkind.”

“Gunkind lets you make your gun change shape?”

“When it’s alchemized with fluorite gems.” He looked up at the sound of a low, long screech; his grin widened. “There we go.” He spun the gun once more, bringing his other hand to take away the second handgun that appeared at the spin’s finish.

The lights at the end of the hallway flickered. With each flicker, more underlings appeared. They advanced slowly, almost oozing within their shadows. They bumped against each other, rising and falling as they moved and jockeyed for the foremost position. That position was gifted with a bullet between glowing red eyes. The underling reared back, screaming in a long hiss before bursting. The other underlings halted where they were, looking at the grist that had fallen in their midst. They slowly looked up.

It was an automatic reaction to bring his wrench up and around at the surge of an attack aimed at his throat, and so Hugh slammed the metal down on the head of the lion-headed basilisk that lunged at him. It shattered, and he felled the next two imps that rushed him in the same manner. He heard the sharp pop-bangs of Azriel’s guns firing, and the sparkling explosions from his wrenches were well suited as an aural partner. They moved down the hallway, collecting the grist as they went in their careful destruction.

Another fork in the hallways formed a perfect T when they arrived. Both hallways were filled with underlings, hissing and snarling and shrieking in rage at the sight of the duo. They stopped, and Hugh could not help but take a step back to stand with his shoulders to Azriel’s.

“What the fuck,” Azriel snarled. “What are these assholes _doing_ here?”

“Looks like they came to try and kill us before we got to Earth.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense, brother. There’s no reason for them to target wrigglers—it would create a paradox that destroys the session completely. No war, no Derse, nothing.” He shot the imps that had crept closer and sighed. “We might have to kill them all to make sure the lab stays safe.”

“You down that way, me down this way?” Hugh asked.

“We come back to this spot in five minutes.”

“Rewind?”

“No.”

He looked over his shoulder, brows raised. “No?”

There was a scowl on his face when he growled, “Something seems wrong here. I don’t feel like fucking around with time dances, brother. Not when we’ve got that bubble back there.”

He snorted, trying to bite down on a smile. “The god-king doesn’t want to use time?”

“Brother, make another comment like that and I’ll slap those stupid fucking blunt teeth out of your head. A god-king knows when not to be an asshole with his powers, all right?” He let out a slow exhale. “You down that way, me this way. Five minutes, brother.”

“Got it.”

Hugh dashed forward as Azriel strode. With the sound of firing at his back, he beat and slammed and smashed and forced his way through the hoard. He rounded the curve of the hallway, continuing onward with neither a misstep nor a missed swing. The hands that reached out to grab him were broken. He stopped a gear with one hand and cracked the skulls of three underlings with the other. Hugh went unscathed, and felt the energy of gained levels surge down his arms as he did.

The junction was far since left behind when he reached another split. Though more underlings dwelled in both, he heard shouting from the left fork. Not screeching or shrieking; he could pick out orders being howled. He kicked an imp, knocking loose a number of its fangs, in order to step closer. No matter how many imps he flung aside, no matter how many basilisks he leaped over, he never heard the orders being aimed at his person. No creatures attacked him under imperative; their focus was turned away more and more the closer he drew to a doorway.

By the time he stood in the doorway, there were no opponents readily charging him. They were acting at the behest of a tall creature that looked very nearly human, were it not for the hard black carapace shell that covered it. Atop the creature’s shoulders sat samurai armor; on its legs were loose trousers; at its waist was a sword so black it was difficult to see. It barked orders through a set of fangs, and each order was, “ _Kill her_!”

Hugh turned slowly. The doorway led to a massive room, twice the size of where the appearifier had been. The underlings were gathered all round, charging forward one by one toward one end of the room. Every few seconds, grist flew across the room; it bounced off the walls and the ceiling. When he looked closer, he could see splatters of deep indigo on the walls. He could not see past the sheer number of creatures, and was shoved back when he tried to push forward.

“ _Kill the bitch_!”

An ogre head went flying, briefly visible before popping into a large chunk of gold.

“ _Kill her now, you fucking worthless monsters_!”

All at once, the underlings surged forward. Just as abruptly, a rippling shudder passed through them. A moment passed where everything was still. Then the underlings fell upon each other, snarling and ripping each other limb from limb. The manlike underling started, taking a step back as rage filled its face. It drew from its belt the sword, holding it before him, and bellowed, “ _Come on, Rogue_!”

The underlings did not bar their erstwhile target from moving forward. Their dark green cloak was ragged at the end and speckled with the same indigo on the walls. Once more the color showed, dripping down their arms and off the tips of knives extended from wrist gauntlets. When he finally looked up fully, to the gray skin and small glasses hanging shattered off one pointed ear and curved and hooked horns, Hugh stopped breathing.

The woman who had thrown him from the roof so many hours ago lifted a hand. At the uncurling of her fist, the knife slid back into the gauntlet. She took the broken glasses from her face and dropped them to the floor. The indigo slid down her face from a cut on her forehead. Though he suddenly understood it was her blood, it was a fact registered in the very furthest reaches of his mind. What he knew, what he understood, what made him stop breathing, was the sheer unfettered _rage_ on the woman’s face.

“Can’t fucking control an Agent, can you?” the creature shouted. “Never could fucking control us, you little bitch!”

The woman breathed in snarling pants. She walked forward and curled her hand into a fist once more.

“Come here! Fucking try it! I fucking _dare_ you!”

She took two dashing steps forward and leaped into the air. The Agent swore at her, bringing the sword down to swing up as she descended. It swung with a great cry, but—

Hugh did nothing. He did not alter time: he did not slow its flow or bring it to a halt. The woman somehow stopped in the air, feet hanging bare millimeters from where the sword swept through the air. The Agent turned back, lifted its head to look up at her with rage and horror twisting its face. It tried to pull the sword back for another swing, but she finally fell upon him with her lips pulled back in a wide sneer and her eyes stretched open so much they were painful to look at. Her knives stabbed into the Agent’s throat, and red blood sprayed onto her face. The Agent seized, limbs flailing as they toppled to the floor. Its arms and legs twitched, and the woman knelt over it until the spasms had ceased.

She smiled. She licked her fangs and spat the blood from her mouth. A soft hissing chuckle came from between her cleaned teeth.

Hugh choked.

She looked up slowly. The smile lost its cheer; her lips became a flat line. She rose to her feet, opening one hand to wipe the red blood away. When her hand fell to her side, rage had once more filled her face. She closed her hand and started toward him.

Hugh turned and _ran_.

“Azriel!” he screamed. “ _Azriel_!” There were no underlings to pass, and he nearly ran into the curved wall in his panic. Azriel stood calmly in the junction of the hallway, hands settled in the pockets of his jeans. At Hugh’s appearance, he raised a brow. When the human sprinted past him, turning to run up the hall they had first come down, he blinked, sputtered, and bolted after him.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he shouted.

“Away! Holy _shit_ , man, _away_! How do we get off this fucking meteor?”

“What are you flipping your shit about, brother?”

“There’s a fucking crazy monster back there!”

“And you think I can’t take it down?” He reached out to grab Hugh’s wrist and forced him to stop. He turned back, drawing out his gun, and said, “Brother, I told you I’d show you how a god fights. That means no fucking running away like a scared little grub.” He lifted his gun and aimed down the hallway.

Under all his panting, Hugh could still hear the pounding footsteps of someone running through the halls. He looked past Azriel almost begrudgingly, still taking steps backward as he watched. Within seconds, the woman had slid into the junction, and she began to sprint up the hallway with her arms trailing behind her, knives glinting in the light.

Azriel froze. “Oh no.” He threw the gun aside into his deck and growled, “ _Shit_!” He turned about, grabbed Hugh’s wrist once again, and hauled him into a new dash. In silence, he dragged Hugh behind him. They ran through halls and doors and rooms and up stairways, and Hugh could always hear the woman’s footsteps and her snarling breath as they went. He dared to turn around.

She was leaping, lunging, reaching out her right arm and knife toward them. When Azriel reached over his shoulder and fired at her, she bent her arm back to guard. The bullet struck the gauntlet, and she stumbled at the unreasonable force from the handgun’s shot. Hugh had time enough to see her shake her arm, flinging blood here and there as it poured up and down her arm, before Azriel pulled him through another doorway. He turned back to look forward, and saw endless black.

Meteors peppered the black, floating and turning slowly. He could see a purple shape in the distance, past the edge of the meteors, but his mind decided to focus on the issue of breathing in what seemed to be outer space. The issue was rendered moot when Azriel continued to drag him along, forcing them to run to the edge of the meteor—

“Dude no no no no _nonoNO_ —”

They leaped off. Hugh’s throat curled in upon itself; he could not scream. They did not fall, and they did not float. They continued to move forward, Azriel pulling him on. When the troll hurled him ahead, he let out a tiny shriek and flailed in space. He managed to turn around, staring as the woman launched off the meteor and flew straight at Azriel. He floated, arms up and hands empty.

With a vicious snarl, she swiped at his face with her wounded arm. He caught her wrist and squeezed hard. She grunted, face twisted in pain as her hand opened. Eyes widening, she lashed out with her legs and kicked at his stomach. He twisted his body up, dodging the kick to come back with his own. It was not at her volition that she froze in the air then, and she wheezed when his heels dug into her stomach. Her response was to stab at his throat; her punishment was to be frozen in time again and punched in the nose. Blood would have spurted to coat Azriel’s knuckles were it not for the time freeze, and he drew back his hand almost leisurely to avoid it.

She gagged and coughed when she was returned to currency, reaching up to clutch at her face. Her eyes were furious when he grabbed her head, but they lost all emotion and focus with the head-butt she received. For a moment, her eyes remained open wide. With the drifting of her hands from her face, though, her eyelids drooped and she went limp.

Azriel let out a long sigh, a growl curling against the roof of his mouth. “Fucking _dammit_ , serpent sister. What’ve you been _doing_ out here?”

“You _know_ her?”

He frowned when he turned around. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I know one of my people? This is my right hand, brother.”

“Your—your _what_? She just tried to fucking _murder_ us! She was probably going to kill all the kids!”

His frown did not diminish when he looked at the woman. He reached out and caught carefully her by the throat. He held her where she was, keeping her from drifting away. For a long while, he stared at her face, at the blood smeared and still oozing from her nose. There was a clear break there, and he snorted another sigh. “I don’t think so, brother.”

“ _Why the hell not_?”

“She wouldn’t kill wrigglers. I told her to never do that.”

“She’s a fucking psycho! What sort of right hand tries to murder her emperor?”

“One that’s been away from her moirail for way too long.”

“What difference does that make?”

Azriel reached up with his other hand. He put his fingers around her nose, felt for the break, and pinched hard. She twitched in her unconsciousness, but there was no longer a twist in her nose when he took his hand away. “When she’s away from my little witch sister, she gets like this. She gets angry and out of control, but most of all? She gets fucking _stupid_ , brother. Stupid and simple. There’s a reason she was up here, and I’m damn sure it wasn’t to cut any wriggler throats.”

“What would she be here for?”

Silence. He looked away from her. He looked beyond the meteors, far down below to the faint blue light there. He looked up to the purple shape. His eyes narrowed. “Brother?”

“What?”

“Which are you, Prospit or Derse? Where’s your dreamself?”

“Prospit.”

“Did your friends ever tell you which moon they’re on?”

“No.” He fidgeted. “But I never saw Amie or Liam on Prospit when I left my tower. Just Vita.”

A long, silent pause. “All right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What do our dreamselves have to do with this?”

“Do you hear anything right now, brother?”

“Wait, _what_? Why are you asking me that?”

“Answer the emperor.”

“Fuck, fine— _no_ , I don’t hear anything.”

“Listen harder.”

He opened, but closed it and rolled his eyes. In silence he waited. He tilted his head from side to side, twitching his ears every so often. There was nothing but the sound of his breathing to be heard, and he made to open his mouth to report it.

 _Don’t you hear the singing, Hugh?_

“Singing?” He looked about. “What singing?”

“An exile from Derse _would_ know,” Azriel murmured. “Keep listening, brother.”

“For wha—”

A needle squirmed through his ear. He yelped and clapped a hand to the side of his head, but felt no blood on his fingers. A twin for the needle arrived in his other ear, resonating with a sound akin to a screeching violin string. The taste of air and copper filled his mouth, and he coughed out the blood that had flowed down his throat from his nose.

“Jesus _Christ_ , what’s that fucking sound?”

Azriel frowned, eyes narrowing. “Fuck. We’re in the Veil, brother.” Still holding the woman by the throat, he flew to Hugh and took hold of his wrist. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here. The Gods hate Prospit dreamers, and we can’t deal with their singing unless we’re gods.”

They landed on the meteor, gravity reasserting itself and bringing Hugh’s feet hard to the stone. Azriel set the woman down with slight care, letting her fall as though she was boneless once her rear was on the ground. He hauled Hugh back into the laboratory, leading him to a transportalizer.

“Take this back to your planet,” he said. “I’m going to deal with this.”

Hugh winced, feeling as though there were fingernails scrabbling inside his skull. “What the hell is this?” He felt the need to sneeze with all the blood in his nose. Though he struggled against it, he had to spin away from Azriel to keep from spraying blood on him.

“Brother, I’ll explain it later. You need to leave before the Gods really try to sing to you. I’m going to deal with my serpent sister and get back to you, don’t worry.”

He pinched his eyes closed, but opened one partway to look at the troll before him. A high note pierced through the center of his skull, lancing to the needles that had joined the fingernails and making it all resonate with the same screeching wail as before. He choked and nearly screamed.

“Get fucking going, brother!” Azriel snapped. He shoved Hugh backward, and stood by as the transportalizer flashed him away. He watched the tiny wisp of steam that rose from the platform dissipate before turning around and walking outside.

The woman was sitting up, spine bent and shoulders slumped. She swayed from side to side, head almost lolling. When Azriel came to her side and crouched down, her bleary eyes refocused and filled with rage. He slammed her to the ground, pinning her arms and jamming his knee into her pelvis to keep her from writhing and kicking. She snarled at him, but could not throw him off.

“I know you’re listening to me, Devaki,” he said. “ _You_ know that I can beat the shit out of you until the end of time, so fucking _listen_ , sister.”

Her snarling died down; she glared at him.

“You’re doing something that makes sense to you when you’re pissed off like this,” he murmured. “That means it got into you _before_ you flipped out. _Listen_ , sister, you need to _think_. I know I’m not Sitara—I can’t make you calm down. But I need you to tell me what the fuck you’ve got in your head.”

Her jaw twitched; her lips squirmed.

“Come on, sister, one fucking word.”

She snarled, eyes closing tightly. Her head rolled; she beat it lightly against the ground.

“ _Think_ for me, Devaki. Speak for your emperor.”

“Ssssss...”

“ _Talk_!”

She struck her head against the ground once more. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, and there was focus in them. “Sssssseer. _Seer_.”

He breathed slowly. “That’s what you want?”

A smile broke on her face; she nodded swiftly.

“I see.” He looked over his shoulder toward the purple shape. “And she’s on Derse.”

She nodded again.

He turned back to her. He watched her smile, anxious and hopeful. He watched the smile fade, her eyes growing desperate. Finally, he watched her lips twist in a sneer and held her down as she struggled to throw him off. She howled at him, and he heard it alongside the singing of the Gods in the Veil.

“I’m going to cut you a deal, sister. You always like my deals.”

She went quiet and panted, nose clogged with blood.

“There was a Derse Agent in there. It wasn’t any trouble to kill him, but he recognized me. An Agent of a different session shouldn’t recognize foreign players. Something happened when we got pulled in here.”

She grit her teeth, brows furrowing.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to let you go.”

Her sneer vanished. Her eyes narrowed slightly, head tilting in to listen.

“I’m going to let you go. I’m going to find Sitara, and then we’re going to find you again.”

She blinked slowly.

“In the meantime? I want you to kill every Derse Agent that you come across, because they’re going to try and fuck with all of us. Those little wrigglers in the lab, too, and we can’t have that happen.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You want the Seer, right?”

Hesitantly, she nodded once.

He let go of her wrists. He took his knee off her and stood up. When he held out his hand, she reached for it. He pulled her to her feet and pointed to Derse. “So go.”

She stared. Her eyes drifted to the planet and its leashed moon and returned to his face.

“I said ‘go,’ Devaki. It’s fine.”

Her smile returned. It became a grin when he ruffled her hair.

“Better hurry up, sister. The Agents are stationed there, and you don’t want to let them beat you to her. Right?”

She blinked. Her smile died once again, her snarl bubbling up when she spun to face Derse.

“Get going, serpent sister.”

She sprinted away and was all but a blur of speed when she leaped from the meteor. As she faded with distance, he chuckled at the fleeting sight of indigo fluttering against the dark.

“Didn’t know it was _that_ important to you, Devaki.” He strode to the edge of the meteor and looked down. Skaia was faint from so far away; the planets were specks barely visible with its light. “Well, if one god’s going to be serious about this shit now, might as well make it two.”

From his back, imperial purple unfurled.

\-------  
Reconvene with YOUR ALLIES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, weird time shit and its ramifications, intrigue, and mental mysteries. I _do_ love this story.


	10. Orders From Above  (1/3)

You are VITA THE BARD...

Oh dear.

Oh dear oh dear.

MISS BARD, please don’t SHOUT so much. THAT LADY isn’t trying to be rude to you. Oh, you shouldn’t yell at her. She looks SO TIRED. It’s not nice to YELL at tired people. YOU wouldn’t like it if someone yelled at you.

You HAVEN’T been sleeping. You’ve been going around your LOVELY LAND and beating up UNDERLINGS, and you’ve been so MAD.

Can’t you please CALM DOWN? Even just a LITTLE?

Please?

All right. For the sake of PROPRIETY, I must INSIST that you CALM DOWN.

Oh dear, that was TERRIBLY RUDE of me. But I am trying to ask POLITELY. Come now, STOP SHOUTING. I can’t even HEAR you, but I know you’re being RUDER THAN I JUST WAS.

WAIT.

Oh, wait, please!

You SHOULDN’T ATTACK HER!

SHE’LL—

Oh dear!  
\-----

Vita hit the ground hard; the slashed halves of her bokken bounced once before settling. The troll took a step back, setting the scythe on her shoulder with a sigh.

“I told you not to attack me,” she said, voice rough.

“I told you that I would beat the shit out of any of you trolls that crossed my path again!”

“You know I cut your sword in half, right?” She paused a moment before pointing at the wood on the ground. “You can’t really beat me up if you don’t have a weapon.”

Vita glared at her and took to her feet. “Oh yeah? You wanna bet on that, _troll_?”

The woman blinked and scratched the underside of her chin. “Yes?” Another blink. “Wait, were you trying to insult me by calling me a troll?” She looked up, tilting her head back and to the side. She lifted her free hand to tap a horn. “Because...that’s kinda dumb. I’m a troll. Why would calling me that make me mad?”

“ _Fine_. Do you want me to call you any annoying asshole? Because I can do that _really_ easily.”

A pause. “Nnnno, that’s okay. You can just call me Galina. That’s my name.” She blinked. “I think I told you that.”

“I don’t care! I’ll prove I don’t need my sword to kick your ass!”

Galina looked at the scythe on her shoulder. It was pitch black, so dark it did not reflect the light. There were serrations in the beginning of the blade’s curve, close to her shoulder, and a sharp point at the top corner of the dull side of the blade. She looked back to Vita. “I don’t think you can beat me when I have my scythe.” After a moment, she lifted the long handle slightly and pushed it as though to spin it around her neck. Before it completed even one revolution, it disappeared into her strife deck, and she put her hands at her sides. “Is this okay?”

She stared, mouth agape.

She lifted a brow, confusion in her face, and looked at her hands. She held them up, turning her empty palms toward Vita. “See? I don’t have anything now.”

Slowly, hands open at her sides, she walked to stand before Galina. The troll looked at her, expression mild with weariness. Were it not for her long curving horns, they would have been the same height. Fangs sat on her lower lip like a set of buckteeth, but there was nothing comical about them. They were even less funny when Vita clenched her hand into a fist, whipped her arm back, and landed a solid punch on her nose that cut tiny gashes on the backs of her fingers. Galina stumbled back, putting a hand to her face and the thick green liquid that came from her nose. She coughed once, and blinked when she took her hand away.

“What the hell did you hit me for?”

“What the hell is coming out of your nose?”

“My _blood_.” She rubbed at her nose, first with the backs of her hands and then with her bare forearms. The green that streaked on her gray skin was the same shade as the Capricorn sigil on her t-shirt. “You hit me in the _face_.”

“What the fuck do you mean your blood? It’s green, for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, I know that. What—are you going to make fun of me for that, too?” She ran her tongue over her teeth and spat out the blood. “At least that would sorta make sense.”

“Why would that make sense?”

“Because I’m pretty low on the hemospectrum. Why wouldn’t it make sense?” She rolled her eyes, rubbing again at her nose. “I bet you’re a blue blood or something.”

She waved her cut fingers in Galina’s face. “I have _red_ blood. _Normal_ blood.”

She stared at her. She snorted a laugh, but it only renewed the bleeding. “Fine, sure. Normal. But why’d you hit me?”

A pause. Her expression shifted instantly from confusion to rage. “Because you were looking down on me!”

“But we’re the same height.”

“You put away your scythe!”

“But you don’t have a weapon.”

“And I punched you right in the face!”

“Wait, so you really do want to fight me?” She scratched the underside of her chin again, looking at her fingertips when she felt blood run under her nails. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Vita charged at her. She threw another punch, aiming for the bloody green target at the center of her face. In swiftness that somehow seemed lackadaisical, Galina stepped to one side and let her stumble by. She leaned back from the kick aimed at her neck. With a small sigh, she wiped her palm against her nose. “Okay, I think it’s finally stopping.” She hopped over a leg-sweep, taking a few steps to the right. “But now my nose is really stuffy. Ow.”

With a snarl, she leaped at Galina with every intention of tackling her to the ground. There was a moment where the troll had mild surprise on her face. The next moment, however, there was a small pop and she had vanished. Vita landed hard on her chest, breath leaving her in a rush as grass stained her elbows. She rolled over and sat up.

“Where the _fuck_ are you?” she shouted.

“Behind you.”

She spun about as she took to her feet. Galina stood a few paces away from where she had been before. After a second or so, she waved. She used her lifted hand to catch the foot that kicked at her head. Another small pop sounded, and Vita was in the air, ten feet away and six feet up. She fell straight to the ground, landing on her back. Too winded to curse, she sat up slowly and watched Galina walk up.

She stopped before her and crouched down. Balancing on her toes, she put her elbows on her knees, crossed her arms, and sighed. “I really don’t want to do this all day. Let’s stop.”

“What are you even doing?”

“Huh?”

“The—popping. What is that popping thing? Where you’re somewhere and then not.”

“Oh, that. I can do that because I’m the Maid of Space. Manipulating space.”

“You can teleport everywhere because you’re the Maid of Space.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked up in thought a moment. “You’re the ‘of Space’ for this session, right? I think Azriel said that.” A pause. “Do you want to learn how to do it?”

She scowled. “I don’t want to learn anything from you trolls.”

A long sigh left her mouth. “You’re just saying that because Kijani was an asshole about redrom with you. I’m really trying to help.” Weariness did not leave her face entirely; it helped to darken the frown that curled her lips. “The only thing I’ve been doing with you is try to help. I never attacked you, so I don’t get why you’re so pissed off at me.”

“You aren’t giving me a good reason to not be pissed off.”

“I didn’t give you a reason to be pissed off in the first place. I came here because Azriel told me to, and he also told me that I should try to help you.”

“I don’t know who Azriel is, and I don’t care if he wants you to be my best friend in the universe.”

She stood up slowly. “Then what about your actual friends?”

Her spine stiffened. “What did you just say?”

“Azriel said I should help you to make sure you can help your friends.”

She stood up, knees wobbling once before she locked them in place. “Are you threatening them?”

Galina put a hand to her forehead. “I just said that I’m trying to help you so you can help them. Did I ever say I was going to hurt them?”

Silence overtook her; her scowl remained.

“The only thing that’s really threatening them is the game. Azriel told us not to attack you guys. It was a direct order.”

“Then what about the thing that’s attacked _everyone_ but me? They all keep saying it’s a troll, not an underling.”

A hum. “I don’t really know about her. I don’t think she’s actually attacking anyone, though.”

“ _She_? You _know_ her?”

“Why not? We all came from the same session. You and the Heir warped space-time to bring me and Azriel here, and then we brought the rest of our team in.”

“You’re saying this is _my_ fault?”

“Did I ever say something was wrong with what happened?”

She jabbed her finger against Galina’s chest. “You assholes being here is what’s wrong!”

Very suddenly, Vita was lifted entirely from the ground and held up by the front of her shirt. The weariness in Galina’s face had been painted over with cold anger, and her scowl matched the one that Vita had been showing. Then, the human simply dangled there with wide eyes.

“ _Shut. Up_.”

The growl carrying the words made her eyes grow wider and her throat close up.

“You’re a whiny wriggler. You’re acting like I’m some huge monster when all I’ve been trying to do is help. I want you to knock it the fuck off and just _listen_ for a minute. Maybe if you don’t act like such a stuck-up know-it-all bitch, you’ll learn something about how to _actually_ help people.” A moment of silence. She shook Vita. “Well?”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing hard. “I’ll listen.”

“Good.” She set her on the ground.

For her part, Vita resisted the urge to step back. Instead, she swallowed once more and took a deep breath. “Okay. So...how do you do the popping thing?”

She blinked. She frowned. She scratched her chin and sighed. “Connnncentrate...I guess.”

“You guess.”

“I stopped paying attention to how I had to go it when I got it.”

She put her face in her hands. “Oh my God, I’ve been paired with an idiot.”

“Just because I don’t know how to describe how to do something natural doesn’t make me an idiot. How would you like it if I asked you how you sleep?”

Vita let out a long sigh.

 _Oh, come now, Miss Bard. Just try to do what she says._

She lifted her head and sighed once more. “Okay. Concentrate. What do I have to concentrate on?”

A hum. “Well...” She looked about. Abruptly, she strode to the cut pieces of Vita’s sword and retrieved them. “Let’s try this. What level are you at?”

“Uh, thirty-two? I think that’s what I saw the last time I looked, but that was a little while ago.”

“Oh, okay. Good.” She put the pieces in her hands and took a step back. “Put them together, like it wasn’t cut.” She held up her closed hands, putting them side to side. “Like this.”

She stared a moment. The thought of being held off her feet and shaken like a doll again, however, made her shake her head and hold the sword together.

“Now think about how it was before.” She paused. “Try thinking ‘I want the matter of this sword to be reconstituted into its prior state.’ I think that’d work.”

“You couldn’t say ‘I want my sword fixed’?”

Galina blinked. “I guess that’d be fine too. Try it.”

Vita pulled in one corner of her mouth, but looked at the sword. The simple thought came into her mind, and she felt a brief tingle in her fingertips. A pop sounded; the sword was restored. She yelped and fought the urge to fling the bokken to the ground. When the shock passed, she lifted it close and stared at where the cut had been.

“Holy _shit_ ,” she murmured.

Galina nodded, her flat expression unchanged. “Yeah, that’s how it is.”

“So...what other stuff can I do? I mean, other than teleporting everywhere.” A pause. “What level do I have to be to do that?”

“Um...maybe you’ll be able to do that now. The first time you use your aspect’s powers kinda gives you a boost. If you teleport somewhere successfully once, it should give you some levels and it’ll all be easier from then.” She sighed, looking into the sky. “And other stuff you can do? Well...fix stuff. Not everything though. I mean, I’m not able to fix a really badly broken body. Some wounds and busted bones, sure, but I can’t revive anyone. You still have to kiss them.”

“Have to what now?”

She brought her head back down and blinked slowly. “Kiss them?”

“Why would we kiss anyone?”

“To revive them if they got killed.”

A long pause. “We can die?”

“Well, yeah. We’re both actually bleeding right now, right? But if we die, if someone comes along before it’s too late, they can kiss you and revive you.” A pause. “As long as your dreamself is still alive.”

“Why is that important?”

“Because it’s where your consciousness goes.” She shrugged. “It’s not important. None of us ever needed reviving, so it’s not like you guys are in danger. Not with us around, anyway.”

“But what about the troll that attacked my friends? She sounds like she’s dangerous to us.”

Galina waved a hand, rolling her eyes. “If the one you’re talking about is who I think it is, then it’s not our problem. Azriel and Sitara are her keepers. If she’s doing anything, then they said it’s okay and we don’t have to worry.”

Vita opened her mouth to argue, but abandoned the words with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s try teleporting to get me some levels.”

“That sounds good.” She looked up, down, left, and right. “Where do you want to go? We shouldn’t go too far the first time you try this.”

“What about my house?”

“Your hive?” She looked up again, seeking Skaia above. Her head tilted to one side. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“What do I concentrate on this time?”

“Just where you want to be.” She blinked, frowned, and sighed in a growl. “Dammit, you’re going to complain about that.” She waved a hand in brief slaps at the air. “Listen, there’s really no _good_ way to explain how to use your aspect powers. If you asked the Heir how he uses his time powers, he wouldn’t be able to explain it. He just does it, just like Azriel did from the start. The only way to figure it out is just think ‘I want to use my space powers to do this.’”

“So—what? Just think ‘I want to be at my house’?”

“Try it. I’ll meet you there.”

And with a pop, she vanished. Vita stared at where she had stood before shaking her head and looking at her hands. She put away her sword and examined her callused palms. She curled her fingers in to her palms and let them unfold slowly, time and time again. Though she kept her breathing steady, she took deeper and deeper breaths. Her brows knit; she grit her teeth hard.

 _It’s all right, Miss Bard. Just try. You can do whatever you want._

She took a final breath and held it tight. The world disappeared around her while holding her shoulders in a painful vice. When she thought enough to register sight, she would have sworn that she saw a flickering, bright green tinge to the blackness all around her. Her ears rang with sharp screeching and high notes. Panic she did not understand made her gasp and reel backward in the nothingness. Abruptly, the world reappeared with a cheery pop, and she tripped over her heels to fall to the ground. On her back, she could see her house stretching high into the sky. Galina leaned over her and blinked lazily. She waved.

“ _Holy fucking shit_ ,” Vita whispered. She bolted upright, looking about frantically. In her surprise, she did not notice Martin the iguana hurrying over and flinging his rough arms round her neck. It was an automatic response to pat him on the head and rub on his sunhat, and she eventually settled her eyes on Galina’s face. “I fucking teleported here.”

“Yeah. Does it feel like you’ve gained levels?”

Her heart was beating wildly; her lungs worked double-time. She swallowed and nodded her head. “Yeah. I think a lot of levels.”

“That’s good. Is there somewhere else you wanted to go?”

“Where _was_ I?”

“Huh?”

There was no keeping her legs from trembling when she stood, but she stood nonetheless. “I was in some different place—after I left where we were and before I got here. There was something—something really green there and there was some really weird _noise_ and it made me freak out. That’s why I fell down.” She tried to take another breath, but found that her heart was suddenly hammering too hard to bring air into her chest. “What was that?”

“Um...” She rolled her eyes slowly as she thought. “You know what, I don’t really know. Azriel might.”

“You’ve never ever noticed that there’s a giant green terror ball in the place you have to go to teleport everywhere? You fucking _spam_ teleport! How can you not have noticed it?”

“I didn’t say that I haven’t noticed it. I just don’t know what it is, and I never stay there long enough to really look at it. But you shouldn’t stay there long, either. Not if it makes you freak out like that.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Just...be faster about teleporting?” She shrugged. “It’s not too hard once you get some more levels.”

“Weren’t you ever scared about it?”

“Well...nnnnnnnnnno. It’s not like it was trying to hurt me.” A pause. “Oh, wait. Hey, where’s your dreamself?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

“You’re probably a Prospit dreamer. You heard singing, right?”

She grimaced. “That was _not_ singing.”

“Not to a Prospit dreamer. You heard the Horrorterrors. The Gods of the Furthest Ring.” Another pause. “Wait, I guess that means we’re in the Ring when we teleport. And that explains why I heard their singing the first time I teleported.”

“What _they_? What are you talking about?”

Galina opened her mouth to reply, but stopped suddenly. She brushed her hair back from one pointed ear, and an earpiece paired with a microphone appeared when she blinked. Another blink came before a small screen extended from the earpiece and came to hang over one eye. Vita could see lines of text flicker on the screen, and very faintly she could hear sound coming from the earpiece.

“Wait, why?” Galina asked. Silence. “You two were in the Veil? You actually took a Prospit dreamer out into the Veil? Why did you do that? He’s not a god, you know that.”

A pause.

“Waaaaaaait, you actually met her out there? The Bard here keeps freaking out at me about her. Everything’s okay, right?” Another pause; she sighed loudly. “Why do I have to play grub-sitter for two of them now? If you’re making me do that to go do your weird God of Time stuff and not explain anything to me, I’m going to be pissed off.”

Vita took a slow step closer when Galina turned to one side with an angry snort. “Listen, emperor or not, I’m still your moirail. Tell me what we’re supposed to be doing, or I’m just going to think you’re being bigheaded.”

Another step closer; she caught scraps of words. “ _Keep...apart, sister. They’re not...because something’s off._ ”

“Thennnnn...you’re going to go investigate?”

“ _Right. Think there’s...with fucking Agents..._ ”

“Agents? Already?” A pause. “The Bard can barely teleport—and you said the Heir nearly blacked out from hearing the Gods. There’s no way they’ll be able to deal with Agents right now.”

“ _Exactly. Keep...and safe. Got it, sister?_ ”

“I do.” She sighed. “Don’t keep me in the dark, Azriel, okay? It fucking bugs me when you do.”

Laughter. “ _Fine, fine. Go...move on._ ”

“All right.” The screen folded back into the earpiece; the set disappeared into her sylladex. She scratched at her chin and turned to look at Vita. She did not react to the sight of her being closer than before, instead reaching out to catch her by the wrist. “We’re going to the Land of Tomes and Ruins.”

“Wha—Hugh’s planet? Why are we going there?”

“Because Azriel wants us to take care of the Heir.”

“Would you _please_ call us by our names? It’s weird being referred to by a title.”

She blinked and sighed quietly. “Fine. We’re going to find Hugh.”

“Wait! Wait, please!” Her other wrist was caught by two small clawed hands, and she looked to see Martin tugging at her arm. “Where are you going?”

“I have to go to my friends.”

“But who’s that with you?” He looked up at Galina; he cowered and hid behind Vita when the troll’s eyes turned toward him. He mumbled, “She looks scary.”

“She’s an ally,” she said. “I’m pretty sure. But we have to go find my friend Hugh. I think he’s been hurt or something, and I’m worried about Liam and Amie now.”

“Yeah yeah,” Galina said. “Let’s get going already.”

“Martin, we’ll be okay. Stay here with Mamorisprite and keep—uh, doing what you’re doing. What _have_ you been doing lately?”

“Trying to make everyone understand we need to help you.” He paused. “And maybe trying to find frogs for you?”

“Oh.” She smiled and lifted her hand to pat him on the head. “Thanks. But we really need to go, okay? Don’t worry about me. You’re doing great, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Come _on_ ,” Galina rumbled.

Martin swallowed hard and released her hand slowly. She had time enough to wave in parting before space warped around her and released her quickly with another pop. They stood in a room she had seen many times before, with bookcases filled to bursting with novels and nonfiction alike. It had always been neat when she had looked, but then it was in disarray. The door was ajar; the desk had been torn through and its drawers left open; and the blanket had been wrenched from the bed in favor of finding the top sheet. It was draped over a trembling lump on the floor, and Vita crouched to pull it aside.

“ _Don’t_ ” was the desperate whimper that answered her motions, and the sheet was pulled down even harder.

“Hugh?” she asked. “Hugh, it’s me, Vita. What’s wrong?” She took hold of what she assumed was his shoulder and shook gently. “Come on, talk to me.”

“For the love of God stop fucking _talking_.”

Galina walked to his other side and knelt. “You heard the singing, didn’t you.”

He let out a faint whimper that might have had a tiny sob buried in it.

“Thought so. I’m going to put my hand on your head.”

“ _Nnnnnoooooo_...”

“Dammit, don’t whine. I’ll make it stop hurting.” Before he could respond, she found his head beneath the sheet and set her hand atop it. There was no pop to cut off his tiny wail, but he still fell silent abruptly.

“What in the fuck,” he muttered.

“Better, right?” She patted his shoulder. “Come on, get up. I want us to get moving.”

“Moving where?” he asked. “Why?” He gave another small whimper. “Please, I want to just stay here. Let me sleep.”

“There’s nothing for your dreamself to do right now. Sleeping’s a waste. We should get working on trying to find frogs back on Lofaf.”

“Wait, _what_?” Vita snapped. “You just made me come all the way here, and we’re just going to go right back? What about Liam and Amie? I’m really worried about them! What about those Agent things you were talking about with—that Azriel guy?”

She raised a brow slowly. “You were listening?” She shrugged. “Never mind, that was a stupid question. Why wouldn’t you have listened?”

“And why wouldn’t we go check on our friends?” Her face twisted in anger and pulled her lips in a sharp frown. “That’s _stupid_! I haven’t seen them in hours, and you’re just telling me that I shouldn’t go see them when I can just teleport right to where they are?”

“We need to go back.”

“No we _don’t_!” She grabbed Hugh’s shoulder with both hands and closed her eyes tight. Just before Galina could snap out her hand, she pulled them both down into space and warped away. They fell a short distance to the ground; she toppled from her feet and Hugh wheezed when he landed on his stomach. Another pop sounded; she opened her eyes quickly to look forward. Galina’s hand was just before her face, but was completely still. Still, until a shaky exhale traveled down to make her arm tremble. She looked past the hand and found shock on her weary face. Slowly, she turned about.

There was a limbless corpse behind them. All along the ground was smeared blue, darkened by soaking into the dirt in front of Hugh’s house. The horns coming from the black hair were hooked on one side and capped by a small crescent on the other. The blue—the blood coated the troll’s square chin, and there was a black-blue void where an eye should have been.

“Oh...oh _fuck_ ,” Galina whispered. “Oh fuck fuck _fucking hell_.” In an instant, she had grabbed Vita and Hugh’s shoulders and teleported them all away. They reappeared in Vita’s bedroom, and Galina stumbled backward until she hit the bed. She fell upon it, shock deepening in her eyes. She took deep rattling breaths. “ _Cosmin_.”

“What in God’s name was that?” Vita asked. “What’s a Cosmin?”

“He was our Knight of Breath.” She put a hand over her mouth and pressed down hard. “He was one of our best fighters.” She took another breath. “Fuck. Oh _fuck_.” Her eyes widened. “Oh _no_.”

“What? What? What is it?”

“I think I know who did it. And I think I know why.”

“Then tell us!”

“There are things in the game—constructs—from Derse. They’re called Agents, and they’re powerful. People like Azriel or Devaki don’t have a lot of trouble with them, but they’re gods. And they were already strong before the game. Cosmin always said there was an Agent who wanted to fight him—to kill him. One that was ridiculously strong and always trying to find him. That was because Cosmin and Aminta—his matesprit, his partner—were always finding out the Dersite Agents’ plans and helping us ruin them.”

Another trembling breath. “Azriel said there were already Agents showing up in this session. If—if Cosmin came in a bad place and a bad time...the Hegemonic Brute could have gotten the jump on him. He could have...ripped him apart. Just like we found him.” She closed her eyes tightly and took her hand from her face. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

The sheeted lump moved. It rose steadily, and Hugh let the sheet drop from his shoulders as he stood straight. There was exhaustion staining the undersides of his eyes, but his frown cut through it to make his gaze steady. “Then we’re going to Lobas. We’re looking for Liam. And then we’re going to Losac to look for Amie.”

She opened her eyes slowly and stood from the bed with the same lack of haste. She stood toe to toe with him, brows low as she looked up at his face. “You just said you wanted to go to sleep.”

“And you dragged me back here anyway.”

“So why’re you acting like some big highblood coming off his first big bloody win?” She flicked his chest. “Azriel said you threw up when you did ectobiology.”

He pushed her hand away. “Yeah, I did. And I cried and I screamed and acted like a big fucking baby because holy shit, I’m responsible for creating myself and every single one of my friends. Then I got dumped back in my room and left alone so someone else could go deal with my problems.” He took a step back, turning toward Vita. “So I started thinking really hard about all that. And you know what? _I am really fucking pissed off_.”

Galina closed her mouth and tilted her head slightly.

“I have been bitching and moaning and acting like the world’s just going to fucking end because of all these things that’re happening—but _whoops_ , it’s already ended! Earth exploded! My dad’s probably dead, Amie’s mom who’s also my mom is just as likely gone, and I wouldn’t make any big bets about Liam and Vita’s parents. So there’s just the four of us left now, and I’ve been such a little asshole acting like a big hero when I haven’t fucking _done_ anything to prove it! I keep letting my friends wander off into danger and not making sure they’re okay—and _why_? Because I was flipping my shit about something that’s not going to change and _shouldn’t_ change?” He laughed. “Wow, _fuck_ that!”

“So what, Heir?” she asked.

“So I’m not going to just fucking stand around here playing frog hunter with you, and I’m not going to let you keep Vita here, either.” He reached back to grab Vita’s hand and tucked her fingers inside the safe space his large palm made. “We find our friends first. Then we come back to deal with frogs. Got it?”

A moment passed in silence. Galina looked away with a snort of a laugh. “No wonder Azriel likes you.”

“Whoopty-fucking-do.”

She looked from him to Vita and back again before settling her eyes on the both of them, a smile on her face. “No, that’s really a good thing. It means he won’t be mad if we just find your friends for a minute before coming back here to hunt frogs.”

\-------  
 _silence_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written during the period when the comic proper was revealing more about the frog catching process and the nature of the denizens, so it wound up befuddling me a lot. I'm at least satisfied with what the characters did to develop themselves, if not start the processes in the game that their aspects technically require.
> 
> And it's actually really funny to see that Vita is very much like her paradox brother in terms of short fuses and tempers.


	11. Orders From Above  (2/3)

You are LIAM THE THIEF.

You have no exile.

You never did.

The only carapace that might have become your exile died up on Derse and never made it to Earth.

As such, there’s no one to try to warn you about those two people plummeting out of the sky above you.  
\-----

He was knocked to the ground and pinned beneath the combined weight of Vita and Hugh. He lay there on his belly, pounding his limbs on the ground with fierce curses pouring from his mouth. When their weight came off him, he snarled and pushed himself to his hands and knees. He looked up; a sword was swinging at his face.

With what felt like the universe folding upon him and a small pop, he was standing some feet away. The horned imp stumbled with its failed swing, falling straight into the bash of Hugh’s wrenches to the back of its head. It was rocked was firework explosions before bursting. Instead of collecting the grist, Hugh swung out both wrenches to catch hold of gears that unfolded from nothingness.

All Liam saw was Hugh spin the gears back a revolution. He could not understand the seven copies of Hugh that appeared in different places, scattered amongst the horde, and so he stared with his mouth slightly open. He watched, panting and shaking, as the copies surged into the fray. They aided each other the exact moment they were needed, and he spotted Ninjasprite flickering in and out of sight, slashing down underlings with each Hugh in turn.

He heard another pop and saw Vita appear some feet directly ahead of him. The bokken she drew out of her deck was not made of the wood he was so used to seeing, instead made of shimmering blue crystal that flashed with every impact of sword to underling. She fought as she had every other time he had seen her: elegantly. Attacks were ducked beneath with the grace of a dancer; blocked with perfect timing; parried with fierce cries; and interrupted with punches and kicks when possible. She whirled on imps that tried to ambush her from behind, leaping up to bound head from head like a game of hopscotch. One set of imps she used as a springboard to launch at the bear-headed ogre that lumbered forward. It shrieked when the sword came down on its head and followed the long guide of its muzzle. It burst, and in her falling Vita vanished with a resounding pop.

Yet another pop sounded, then on his left, and he turned with every expectation to find Vita there. What he saw was a troll woman he had never met, lifting up a grim black scythe. Liam’s eyes widened; the sudden panic that gripped him at the sight of her drawing back the scythe kept him from reaching out for her mind. She swung. He first felt the blade pass over his head, and then was felled by the lion basilisk head that dropped upon him. The grist that appeared from the head was absorbed naturally when he stood up. He swallowed, sucked in air, and locked his knees as he lifted his kusarigama.

Four imps barreled into him at once, tackling him with loud warbling barks. He stabbed two in the eyes with quick jabs of the sickle, wrapped the chain around the neck of a third, and slammed his feet in the face of the fourth. He got up, panting through his teeth and pulling hard. The imp choked, kicking weaker and weaker until its neck snapped. He let the body drop and stormed forward to lop off the heads of the three other imps.

At the sound of an ogre’s roar multiplied threefold, he looked about. Mahima slid back on the balls of her feet, drawing back the fist that had shattered the ogre’s shin. The creature dropped to one knee, its three bull-horned wolf heads rolling on its broad shoulders. She leaped hard, smashing an uppercut on the middle head’s chin. The jaw crumbled, a sound of surprised pain tumbling out with a number of fangs. She caught hold of the fur on its neck and swung to its mid shoulder on the right. A kick to the neighboring head broke its neck, but she was punched by a fist larger than her body in the next moment. The ogre tried to smash her into the ground, but she brought her feet beneath her, withstood the blow easily, and pulled the ogre’s arm off for its trouble. It ruptured lazily, massive gems of grist falling dropping to the ground around her.

A hand caught the back of Liam’s shirt. Before he could whirl to cut off that hand, the universe closed on him again. The release did not favor him that time, and when he reappeared in a different place, he stumbled away with a reeling, splitting head. He tripped and vomited into the dewy grass under him. With how hard his breath still tried to come down his throat, he nearly choked. He coughed as hard as he could, feeling snot running from his nose to smear on his burning lips before he wiped at his face with one arm. Grimacing, turning the expression to a scowl, he struggled to his feet and spun about.

“Stop fucking _doing_ that!” he shrieked.

The troll woman looked at him mildly, head tilted slightly. She blinked once before teleporting away and leaving him to stare at where she had been standing. In short order, she reappeared with a trio of pops and Vita, Hugh, and Mahima in tow. Mahima was the only one to react, half leaping back when she saw the woman.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she snapped.

“Um...actually, it’s more what _you’re_ doing here, because I didn’t think you’d be hanging around humans.”

“That begs the question as to why you’re ferrying two of them around when you never trolled them back in the Veil!”

A slow blink. “You use way too many words for a lowblood.”

She snarled, lips pulling back to show her fangs. “Give me a good reason, Tenoch, and I swear I’ll rip your fucking head off.”

“That sounds more like a lowblood.”

She began to stride toward her, hands closing to fists. “Like you’re that much higher on the hemospectrum.”

“At least I’m _on_ the spectrum, mutant.”

She stopped before her and leaned down to shout in her face, “Stop calling me that!”

“It’s not like I’m saying anything that’s not true.”

“You always say that you’re Makram’s moirail and then you turn around and say exactly the opposite of what he tries to espouse! If you support his efforts, then why the _fuck_ are you constantly—”

Hugh barged between the duo, shoving them apart and snapping, “Would you two shut the hell up already?”

A low growl came up from Mahima’s throat. “And who the hell are you to give either of us orders?”

“I’m the goddamn Heir of Time, I’m the leader of this session, and I’m the counterpart player to the Prince of Time.” He jabbed a finger in her chest. “If you really have a problem with me, then you can take it up with _your_ leader.”

“I never acknowledged Makram as my leader, and I won’t fucking accept a little human for a leader.”

He frowned. He reached out casually with a wrench and turned back a gear. The next reversed instant, he was standing behind her. He swung his wrench and caught her in the back of the head. Liam would have expected that she wouldn’t react. However, the fireworks were enough to make her swear and put her hands on her head. She spun about, but he simply reversed time for himself to slip behind her and smack her again.

“Stop fucking _doing_ that!”

He put his wrench to her chest and pushed her back when she turned to face him. “I’m going to keep doing it until you calm down and stop acting like you’re going to punch everyone’s head in.” He turned and jabbed the wrench at the other troll. “And Galina, that goes for your—whatever the hell you two were arguing about with blood and mutants. It sounds stupid and annoying and weirdly racist, and we’ve got one dead troll teammate. I don’t want you to kill each other.”

“Wait, what do you mean we have a dead troll?” Mahima asked.

“There was a dead troll on Lotar, my planet,” Hugh replied. “Galina called him Cosmin. The Knight of Breath, I think.”

“Kerkan’s _dead_?”

“If that was that guy’s name, yeah.”

“It was probably the Brute,” Galina said, frowning. “He hated Cosmin.”

“What about the others? Jadzia? Ruzgar?” She paused, glancing at the ground before taking a deep breath. “Have you heard from Vilmos?”

“Why would he troll me?” Galina asked. “The only ones who I know are definitely alive are us, Azriel, Kijani, and Devaki.”

Liam stepped forward, neck going taut. “Devaki? The one Mahima told me about—she’s still alive? _Why_?”

“Azriel said he trusts her not to do anything we can’t deal with. I trust him and he left her in the Veil, so that’s going to have to be good enough for you until we really figure things out.”

“Wha— _no_! Man, _fuck_ that! She fuckin’ attacked me! And Mahima! She was gonna make the underlings fuckin’ eat me if she hadn’t shown up to save my knocked-out ass! She’s gonna—”

Mahima took his arm carefully. “You and Makram met her in the Veil?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“What was she doing there?”

“Fighting underlings in the meteor lab.”

“But not you?”

He sighed. “She freaked on us, but Azriel said she wasn’t there to mess up our ectobiology or to attack us. I had to leave after that because of that weird singing shit in the Veil, and then Galina and Vita came to help me out.”

She looked at him a long while. “You’re aware of her instabilities as the Grand Highblood?”

“If that’s what made her freak on us like that.” He paused, dismissing his wrenches to cross his arms and tap at his biceps. “But Azriel...punched her in the face to make her stop, so I think she’s not completely crazy. If he says she’s okay, then we’re going to go with that.”

“All right. I’ll go with that—and you—for now. Why did you come to Lobas so suddenly?”

“That’s a pretty lame thing to ask the people who just came to save your asses from an army of underlings,” Vita grumbled.

“Liam and I were doing fine.”

“The Thief looks like he’s going to pass out,” Galina said. “He threw up after I teleported him here.”

“Fuck you. You pulled me through a black hole or somethin’.” He scowled, closed his eyes tight, and shook his head. “Look, I’m fine. If you can just teleport everywhere, why are we fuckin’ around? Why haven’t we gone to get Amie?”

“The Seer isn’t in any danger,” Galina said with a shrug.

“Hey, with your goddamn psycho bitch runnin’ around, ain’t none of us safe. And for fuck’s sake, we have names.”

Galina glanced at Mahima. “Okay, I can see why you were hanging around with him.”

“Jesus _shit_ will you shut up to her? And how the hell do you know Amie’s not in trouble?”

“Because our chat client can look at the person we want to troll. I’ve looked and she’s fine. Last I checked—which wasn’t too long ago—she was sleeping.”

“Then we should be going to get her! She could be in trouble if somethin’ catches her while she’s sleeping!”

“Liam, chill out,” Vita said. “We got you off of Lobas for a second because you guys were totally going to get overrun. Even though I hate it, I have to stay here on Lofaf and hunt frogs.”

He stared at her, face twisting. “Hunt frogs.”

“Yeah. It’s something I have to do for the game if we want to win, okay? Don’t mock me about it. I’m going to stay here to try and get it all done sooner than later, and Galina’s going to help. Let me just pester her before we go planet-crashing, okay? We don’t want to run into any of these weird Agent assholes that’ve killed people.” She drew her On-the-Go set and opened Pesterchum with a few flicks of her fingers.

“She’s not gonna be online if she’s asleep!”

“Well, it looks like she’s up now. Be quiet for a minute, okay?”

—voice chat enabled—  
—tirelessGuardian [TG] began pestering aspiringCarver [AC]—

TG: amie?  
TG: amie, you’re online so you’re awake, right?   
AC: oh  
AC: oh um  
AC: hi vita   
TG: uh...  
TG: sweetie, what’s wrong?  
TG: you sound awful.   
AC: no nothing’s wrong  
AC: i just  
AC: i just woke up from sleeping  
AC: my voice is always kinda screwed up when i wake up   
TG: o...kay.  
TG: look, here’s what’s up.  
TG: you remember the trolls, right?   
AC: how could I forget them?   
TG: no kidding.  
TG: so they’re actually real people with horns and stuff like your sprite.  
TG: and they came here from a different session of the game to help us with our game because weird shit’s happening.   
AC: i know   
TG: wait what?  
TG: why do you know that?   
AC: um  
AC: uh  
AC: because my planet started changing shape and i met up with consorts who told me about the rogue of mind  
AC: this lady called devaki?  
AC: that was after this weird guy they called the heir of rage flipped out and tried to attack me to make her come help me   
TG: the heir of rage?  
TG: o...kay, that’s a kinda weird title  
TG: Wait, She’s Met Vilmos?  
TG: Ask Her If He’s All Right.   
AC: what the hell   
TG: mahima, I told you guys to be quiet for a minute.   
AC: mahima?  
AC: who the hell is that?  
AC: who’s there with you?   
TG: it’s me, hugh, liam, and a couple of the trolls named galina and mahima.   
AC: uh  
AC: wow  
AC: that’s a lot of people   
TG: Amie what the fuck is going on with you?  
TG: everyones sayin were not going to come get you off your stupid snowy planet  
TG: theyre seriously bein assholes about it  
TG: holy SHIT I told you guys to just shut up!  
TG: that was liam just now.   
AC: i figured   
TG: okay, honestly now.  
TG: is everything fine with you?  
TG: do you want us to come help you with your quest or anything?  
TG: I can try to put off frog hunting for a little while if you want us to come to losac.   
AC: no  
AC: no i’m fine  
AC: just fine  
AC: you guys don’t have to worry about me at all  
AC: you shouldn’t really  
AC: go do your own quests and stuff  
AC: i’ll be fine   
TG: ...  
TG: wow, you are a really terrible liar.  
TG: you know I know that.  
TG: sweetie, what’s wrong?   
AC: nothing  
AC: nothing’s wrong  
AC: you don’t have to worry  
AC: just don’t  
AC: don’t  
AC: don’t pester me okay?

—aspiringCarver [AC] ceased pestering tirelessGuardian [TG]—  
—aspiringCarver [AC] has gone offline—

She stared at the tiny screen with a smooth face. She reached up to tap at the earpiece and dismiss it from her face. She took a deep breath and released it through her nose.

“We’re going to fuck frog hunting and go find Amie,” she said.

“No, we’re not,” Galina said.

“Oh, _fuck you_!” Vita shouted. “You didn’t fucking hear her! She was starting to hyperventilate and it sounded like she was going to cry! She’s having a panic attack and she’s offline now and I am _really fucking worried about my best friend_! Who in God’s name are you to tell me that I can’t go help her? Absolutely fucking _no one_ , and there is no way I’m letting you keep me from going!”

Her face twisted into a scowl, and she snapped, “Azriel doesn’t want you four to be together at one time!”

“ _What_?” Hugh asked. “Why would he say that?”

“Because if _we’re_ getting killed, the last thing he wants is our only way of winning this game and getting into a new universe dying! And if it’s the Agents killing us, then there’s no fucking way that you _humans_ are going to beat them right now!” She held up her hands, shaking them once as she curled her fingers. “Don’t you idiots get it? This is your game! If you die, we lose and we’re all going to be stuck here forever! We fucking _won_ our game and made your universe, and if we don’t make sure the players of this session win then we lose _everything_!”

“If you don’t want us to die, then you let me go find my friend.”

“No.”

Liam stormed forward, grabbing Galina by the front of her shirt and shaking hard. “You fucking let us go help her or I’m going to slit your throat!”

“Tell me a good reason to let you. Better than her just being your friend, or I’m going to drag you all back here no matter how many times Vita teleports you away.”

His eyes widened; his brows dropped; his lips pulled back in a snarl. He opened his mouth to roar at her.

“You will listen, Maid.”

His voice was quiet, carrying a soft hiss. He stumbled back, grabbing at his throat. His mouth opened again.

“You will listen to the Highblood.”

They stared at him, eyes widening and brows rising and jaws dropping. Mahima whispered, “ _Devaki_?”

“The Seer’s necessary. We need her to help plan our way. A Seer’s always necessary.”

Liam waved his arms frantically, pointing at his throat and looking from person to person with desperation in his eyes. He grit his teeth and whined frustration, but his mouth opened again.

“There’s a reason. You need to know.”

He felt his throat closing. He choked; he whimpered.

“And you, Thief, are going to learn why.”

His world went black.

\-------

 _He is bound in chains and gagged. He sits in a small dark room slumped against a wall. The darkness is so deep he cannot see if there is a door to escape through, a window to slip out. The chains are too strong; he can barely wiggle about. He sits in silence, staring into the furthest corner and willing his eyes to adjust. Brows furrowing, he soon looks around the room with increasing anger and begins to shout against his gag. He tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling and screams._

 _A light turns on and blinds him. He screams again, this time in pain, and slams his eyes shut. He writhes and kicks his legs to no avail. He squirms and swears and blinks against the burning tears from the light._

 _“What the fuck are you doin’ awake.”_

 _He cannot see past the bursts of burnt in light._

 _“The little shit’s not supposed to be awake.”_

 _“What the fuck are the underlings doin’ down there. Useless fuckers.”_

 _“Think the bitch squealed?”_

 _A pause. He realizes the voices are identical._

 _“Don’t think so.” A low growl. “I think it’s that fuckin’ Rogue. God **fuckin’** dammit, that Rogue.” His voice rises. “Why haven’t we fuckin’ caught her already? How shittin’ hard is it to catch one stupid screwball like her?”_

 _“Can’t underestimate any of them, even her. Probably usin’ the Mindgrip all over the fuckin’ place to make people forget she was ever around.” A rustle of paper. “Look at this. We took it off the body of one of our lower guys.”_

 _He tries to open his eyes. The flares of light are less agonizing._

 _Another growl, deeper than before. “That fuckin’ **bitch**.” His voice becomes a shout. “Tellin’ us to give her the little Seer bitch? She’s gonna fuck it up for us! She’ll fuckin’ kill her before we get done!”_

 _His breath stops. He opens his eyes and grimaces at the pain, but he does not shut them anymore. He stares at his feet and tries to resolve their edges in his sight._

 _“That’s why we gotta make sure she doesn’t get near the Seer.”_

 _He sees a hand, pitch black and shining like a shell, grab his violet shirt. When he looks up, he still cannot see the face of the voice._

 _“Nighty fuckin’ night, Thief. You ain’t gonna wake up here again.”_

 _A fist smashes into his face and his world goes down._

\-------

Liam jerked when he woke on his back. For a long while, he was paralyzed. He felt wicked terror gripping his bones and sitting on his chest. He wanted to roll over and choke on the air, if only to bring in the tiniest measure of breath. Vita was suddenly crouched over him, hands gently shaking his shoulders. He wheezed and shoved himself up on one elbow; he grabbed her shirt.

“They have her!” he gasped. “And they—they got me somewhere, I don’t know where the hell I am—I don’t even know if it’s fuckin’ Derse anymore!” He swallowed. “Vita, for God’s sake, they’re _doing_ something to her! They don’t want us to get near her!” He let go of her shirt and struggled to his feet. He looked about, seeing the others gathered round. Panting, feeling his eyes burn, he shouted, “ _Please_! We have to go find her!”

A long pause. Galina looked at the ground. “I don’t know if we can get to her.”

Hugh stepped in, putting a hand on Liam’s shoulder to hold him back from screaming and charging at her. “Why? What’d stop us?”

“Aside from Agents?” She sighed and frowned. “She’s the Seer of Void. I don’t know what level she is—but something the Hero of Void can do is block people out. Put themselves in a void you can’t look into and _I_ can’t teleport to directly.”

“You’re so very useful,” Mahima muttered.

“It’s not like your Sylph of Blood powers are going to do anything for us.”

“God _dammit_ , this is more important than your stupid bitchy arguing!” Liam shouted.

“If we can’t directly teleport to her, then we’ll have to go to Losac and search for her the hard way,” Hugh said.

Galina’s frown deepened. “I just said Azriel doesn’t want you all to be together in one place.”

“Fine,” he replied. “Then we’ll look for her one at a time in shifts, you teleporting us on and off Losac as we go. I’ll go first.”

Liam spun about to grab his shirt and shake him. “No, _I’m_ gonna go first! I’m more worried about her than any of you!”

“Oh please,” Vita said. “I’m her best friend.”

“What the fuck does a best friend matter?” he snapped. “I’m—I fucking—I _love_ her, you idiot! If I don’t get to go help her, no one fuckin’ does! Now send me to Losac before I—”

Mahima moved close, leaned down, grabbed him by the ankles, and pulled him off the ground. She dangled him upside down, letting him sway back and forth slowly. When he tried to kick free of her grip, she swung him up and over her head, and adjusted her grip to hold him high above. “What did I tell you about acting like a petulant wriggler?”

He crouched down and pulled hard at her fingers. “Let me the fuck go!”

“Do you want me to _throw_ you into the air? I can do that very easily. If you hate the height you’re at right now, you really won’t like how high I can make you go. And I don’t think Tenoch will try to teleport all the way up there to catch you, not if you’re going to keep being such a brat.”

He opened his mouth to shout again, but Hugh raised his voice to shout, “Okay, knock it the hell off, _everybody_!” He stared at them, gesturing vaguely before putting a hand to his head. “Jesus _Christ_ , how did Azriel ever lead you guys when all you do is fight?”

“The same could be said for you, Heir,” Mahima said.

“I have a name,” he said evenly. “Use it. And I’m giving the orders right now, and the order for everyone is to _shut up_ for a minute.” He brought his hand down, hitching his thumbs in his pockets. “Mahima, put him down. And Liam, just...just don’t shout at anyone for, like, ten minutes, okay? We’re not going to make any sort of plan if you’re just screaming.”

Sneering, Mahima brought Liam back to the ground. He stumbled away, skipping on the leg she had accidentally squeezed. He panted, half bent over to hold his thigh in a vague attempt to press away the pain in his shin. Scowling, narrowing his eyes, he kept his mouth shut.

“Okay, good,” Hugh said. “So. We _are_ going to go to Losac to find Amie. Whoever it was that made Liam talk like that said Amie’s necessary for us to win the game, so I’m going to bet that she is.” He looked at Mahima. “You said ‘Devaki’ when he said ‘Highblood.’ I don’t care what that last part means, but is that the same Devaki that Azriel and I would have met out in the Veil?”

She rolled her eyes, but said, “Yes.”

“Then how did she make Liam say that stuff? And pass out like that?”

A long pause. She sighed. “On top of being the Rogue of Mind, she has the Mindgrip. For...” She grimaced. “For _lowbloods_ like myself and humans like you, she can control our actions. It would be nothing for her to make him talk, and even less to make him lose consciousness.”

He looked at the sky a moment. “And what about underlings?”

“Everything up to Agents.”

“Well, that explains what happened in the lab.” He sighed. “Okay, let’s just assume that she’s not going to mess with us.”

“That’s a shitty assumption,” Liam muttered.

“She helped us learn what was going on with Amie. That counts for something. For now, though? We need to split up into shifts. And _I’ll_ go first.” He paused, frowning at the way Liam looked at him. “Don’t make that face at me, man. You’re just going to flip out right now and you know it.” A sigh. “You’re starting to just freak. You need to sleep.”

“I am _not_ fuckin’ sleeping right now! If I go to sleep, then I fuckin’ wake up in chains again! I’m not gonna be any use asleep, so if you’re not gonna let me go _help_ her then let me keep wailin’ on my underlings and getting levels so I _can_ help her!”

A long silence. He licked his lips and nodded. “Right. That’s okay.” A pause. “Mahima, you stay with him. Galina, you keep checking up on them with your program while you help Vita with the frogs.” Another pause. “And don’t let me hear that you’ve been _not_ watching them because of this weird highblood-lowblood-mutant bullshit thing you have going on. If Azriel told you to make sure we don’t die, then you don’t get to wind up screwing my friend because you want to mess with one of _your_ teammates. Got it?”

She shrugged.

“Okay, good. I’ll go to Losac and get my bearings—see if I can get her consorts to tell me something about what’s going on. Vita, I’ll pester you and Galina if I need you to pull me out of there fast.”

She did not answer him. She crossed her arms and looked at the ground. She tapped one foot on the ground and dug her toes into the grass. She muttered, “Fine.”

He sighed, pulling one corner of his mouth into his cheek. Gently, he patted her shoulder. “It’s not like I’m never going to let you meet Amie, all right? You have something to do, and I already did my huge thing with Azriel. I’ve got the time to check this all out, so don’t be upset with me. Please?”

Silence.

“C’mon, please?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hate you or anything,” Vita murmured.

He blinked. He chuckled. “Thank you, copy of Miss Laurent. I’ll go check on the real one and get back to you guys soon.” Hugh took a deep breath and held out his hand to Galina. “Send me to Amie’s house.”

She gripped his hand; the universe gripped his body.

He stood before her house, as tall as he had last left it hours ago. He did not hesitate in opening the front door and striding inside. All the lights were on; he still drew his wrenches. Slowly, he moved into the living room. He looked about slowly, studying the high walls and the portraits and bookcases on them. It was still the same pale blue as before, almost white under the brightest of the lights; the carpet under his feet was a faint gray. He saw dark spots on the floor near the couch and went to them. Touching the spots revealed their crusty nature, and he rubbed at the flakes that came away on his fingertips. He stood back up and went from the living room, hurrying up the stairs.

“Amie!” he called. “Amie, hey! I came to check on you! Vita said you sounded—uh, sick or something!” He came upon the landing, moving quickly to her bedroom. The door was ajar, and he pushed it further open slowly.

Nothing. There was no sign that she was there, nor was there any sign of her having been there in any recent time frame. He reached out with one hand, but stopped short of catching hold of the gear that appeared at his willing. He turned from the room and jogged down the stairs and into the basement below. The wreckage of the statue tossing was still jammed in the stairwell, and he grumbled at himself as he climbed over it to enter the studio.

“What are you doing here?”

Hugh did not leap back at the voice, instead lifting his wrenches. When he saw the sprite floating in the furthest dark corner, he lifted a brow. “Where’s Amie?”

“I could ask you the same question, Heir.”

“ _Hugh_. For God’s sake, you guys need to use our names.” He put away the wrenches with a sigh. “Amie didn’t tell me yours.”

“Timsprite.”

A pause. “Well okay then.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Timsprite said. “I can’t appear where she is. There’s something wrong with the planet—there’s a large area that’s corrupted.”

“Corrupted? How?”

“If you head east, then you’ll eventually come to the corruption. From what I can see, it’s some kind of merging with information that didn’t exist in this session. There were no designs for a city on the Land of Snow and Crystals.”

His eyes widened. “Then there probably weren’t any designs for a giant ocean under the ground on the Land of Tomes and Ruins, either.”

“I would think. But I’m unable to go into the corruption. It hurts.”

“Sprites can feel pain?”

“We can die, just like anything else. But I think players are able to withstand the corruption. You need to find Amie.” He paused, looking to one side. “I want her safe, despite her arguing with me before she vanished.”

Hugh snickered. “First I get Liam screaming that he’s in love with her, and then I get you acting all bashful and stuff because you fought with her.”

“It’s not bashfulness. You aren’t her, so it’s easy to say I regret arguing with her. You can tell her that if you want, though I don’t think she’ll believe you.”

Another snicker. “Okay. You said east, right?”

“Correct.” He looked away from the wall and met Hugh’s eyes. “Bring her back.”

He smiled, said, “That’s the plan,” and left the room and the house entirely. With a light step, he jogged through the snow. No underling harried him as he went, and he soon crested a hill to discover the city mentioned. It was sprawling, spreading in every direction and rising high. His advance grew slower, feet shuffling on the pavement when he stepped from the snow. Again, he drew out his wrenches; breathing quietly, he walked into the city.

\-------

—tirelessGuardian [TG] began pestering tergiversantChaotic [TC]—

TG: christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this.   
TC: wHoA!  
TC: hEy BaBe!  
TC: SoRrY sOrRy  
TC: ViTa.  
TC: I dIdN’t ThInK yOu’D tAlK tO mE aNy TiMe SoOn.   
TG: it was an idea I had, but I hate myself for even thinking it up.  
TG: I  
TG: fuck  
TG: I want to ask you a favor.   
TC: FuCk YeAh BaBe!  
TC: I’lL dO wHaTeVeR yOu WaNt!  
TC: An’ HeY i’M sOrRy AbOuT bEfOrE.  
TC: i SeRiOuSlY dIdN’t WaNt To MaKe YoU pIsSeD aT mE.   
TG: look, that’s not the point.  
TG: I didn’t pester you to get an apology session.  
TG: but...  
TG: if you help me out  
TG: jesus fucking help me  
TG: I’ll actually talk to you again.  
TG: galina made me promise.   
TC: bAbE, i’Ll TaKe AnY pRoMiSe YoU wAnT tO gIvE mE.  
TC: wHaT’s Up?   
TG: you said you were the mage of void.  
TG: my friend is the seer of void, and we think she’s really in trouble.  
TG: but she’s not replying to any messages, and we don’t know if we can find her.   
TC: tHe SeEr’S pRoBaBlY hIdIn’ HeRsElF iN tHe VoId.  
TC: WaIt WaIt, I tHiNk I gEt YoU!   
TG: right.  
TG: do you think you can help us find her?   
TC: fOr YoU, bAbE, mOtHeRfUcKiN’ aNyThInG!

\-------  
Be forced to LISTEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we start getting more of the mystery.
> 
> God, it's so fun to start bringing all these characters together.


	12. Orders From Above  (3/3)

You are Amie Laurent, the Seer of Void.

I’m not surprised you’re the focus of this computer of mine. Even if you are a Derse dreamer, I am well aware of fate. Your allies came to Prospit to seek my counsel regarding your plight of listening to the songs of the Gods in the Veil. It is only natural that I would become your exile and be able to watch you now.

Currently, you’re not awake.

You are, however, on your feet and moving around.

I hadn’t thought the Rogue’s control would be so fine. Then again, she is a god. It makes perfect sense that it must be nothing at all for her to make you stand at the edge of the roof, even if you’re sleeping.

Now. I wonder how well she can make your sleeping body jump.  
\-----

Hugh kept his anxiety at bay by breathing steadily. The trolls in the city paid little attention to him, save when he passed close. They went about their business: they argued over prices of wares; fought one another; and wandered here and there with objectives he could not guess.

He stopped on a corner, looking about. The trolls continued to ignore him, even as he turned his wrenches idly in his hands. He drummed a heel against the ground; he reached up to scratch at his chin and the faint stubble that had grown there. Sighing, he pulled his com set from his sylladex and made to open Pesterchum. He paused at the main screen, however. The Sburb icon sat next to Pesterchum’s, bright green and almost glowing in the dark lenses of his once-sunglasses. He quickly opened a window for the program.

Amie’s house was as he had left it: deserted. He scrolled through commands until he found “LOCATE.” The house vanished in a blur of white static when he selected the command, and he held his breath. When the static resolved, he saw Amie standing on a rooftop. Her chisel and hammer were in hand, and pulling back the focus revealed why: she was surrounded by underlings. The program’s image flickered suddenly and died.

He bolted for the nearest alleyway. With the levels he had gained, it was easy to leap to the first level of a fire escape, and he climbed quickly to the tenth-storey roof. For a long time, he stood without direction. No matter how many times he closed and restarted the Sburb window, it did not show Amie. Desperately, he rocked up on his toes and looked about. The weak light of Skaia made the rooftops blur together in a haze of gray. He thought to call her name.

The sound of underlings screaming cut off his attempt. Hugh turned completely around in time to see the lightning that arced in purple plasma streaks up from a roof in the distance. Putting away his wrenches, he started to run across the rooftops. He did his best to find a path along roofs that steadily, gradually rose up, but was still forced to drop down once. It resulted in his being lower by three storeys when he arrived, staring up as more lightning arced and fireworks cracked off.

The building before him was a sleek, low skyscraper. The wind about him tried to push him off the roof; he grit his teeth against it. An imp was flung off the roof, shattering into grist when it hit the next building over. He saw the gems tumble down; he did not look after them lest he see the ground far below. With another glance up, he sucked in deep rushes of air. He rocked back and forth on his feet, bounced once on his toes, and dashed. The force of his jump launched him just shy of where he wanted to be. For a moment, he scrabbled wildly to find a handhold anywhere. His fingers latched onto the edge of a window, and he dangled there with his heart pounding. Quickly, he began his clumsy climb up.

Another imp smashed down on the edge of the rooftop when he pulled himself up, the grist flying into his face. It was absorbed naturally; it did not knock him back to ruin his climb. He took to his feet, feeling his knees quake. Amie darted from underling to underling, moving fluidly from defense to attack. There was no tenseness in her body. When he managed to catch a glimpse of her face, it was utterly smooth. Even at the blow of an ogre, knocking her to the ground, her expression did not change. She rolled back and over and returned to the fray.

“Amie!” he shouted. The only response he received was the underlings noticing him. He killed those that attacked him and pushed forward. Though he kept calling out between his strikes, she never turned to him. Every time he came near, she moved away to attack another creature. It was only when she vaulted over an imp with more elegance he had ever seen from her, shoving it back to crash into him, that he paused. He caught a gear and reversed time. He caught her as she landed from her leap, holding her still.

“Amie, wait a second!”

Her eyes were open but unfocused. He shook her hard. For a moment, her head lolled back. She blinked slowly; her eyes went pure white. Sneering, she wrenched forward, entirely out of his grasp, and smashed her head against his face. He stumbled back, swearing loudly and bleeding from the nose. She stumbled as well, blood leaking down her face from the cut his teeth had made on her forehead. Her eyes closed tight, but she opened them quickly. The color returned, and so too did focus. She blinked blearily and reached up to her head and the cut. Taking away her hand, she stared at the blood on her fingers.

“What the _fuck_?” Hugh yelled. “Jesus Christ, what was that for?”

Her head snapped up at his voice. The blood in her face vanished. She took a step back.

He coughed, spitting out the blood that had slipped into his mouth. For a long while, they stared at one another. Hugh suddenly noticed the silence and swung about. The underlings had stopped moving; they watched the duo with blank faces. They turned away and retreated. Their shuffling nearly buried the sound of running feet, but it called his attention instantly. When he turned back, he saw her sprinting away.

“Amie! Amie, _wait_!”

She disappeared from sight before he even started to follow. He stood stupefied, hand outstretched, until a shriek rang out. Amie reappeared suddenly, held off the ground with her shoulders grabbed by a troll Hugh had never seen. He was skinny, tall, and curling ram’s horns came from his hair.

“Chill the fuck out, babe!” the troll said. “And don’t try to slip into the Void for hiding, ‘cause I’ll bring you right the fuck back out!”

Her wild struggling paused for a heartbeat before she kicked him hard in the stomach. He wheezed and dropped her. She landed lightly, perfectly balanced, and bolted to the side. When the troll tried to follow, he was tackled from behind. Indigo stained yellow eyes looked up to Hugh, and he stopped breathing. The woman stood leisurely, keeping one booted foot on the troll’s back. She tiled her head slightly, looking at him with her small glasses on her nose. The hood of a long, dark green cloak was pulled up on her head, buttoned around her horns. A scarf of light teal-green was over her face, and a sigil like a three-tailed flame was emblazoned on the chest of her shirt in the same shade. Wings, sectioned in fragments and colored in waves of indigo and black, were gently buffeted by a wind filled with snow.

The man rolled over, slapping the woman’s leg away. He flipped up onto his feet and wiped the orange-brown blood from his cut lip. He smiled and said, “Hey there, my most favorite of bitches.”

She looked at him mildly.

He flicked his eyes to Hugh, gesturing to the woman with his thumb. “Know who this is, man? Motherfuckin’ Grand Highblood.” He hitched his thumbs in his pockets, leaning down to put his face close to hers. “Devaki Rapoto. What the fuck are _you_ doin’ here, you delicious bitch? Messin’ with the Seer?” He reached out and stroked the backs of his fingers against her crooked horn. “Fuckin’ fun to mess with humans, for sure. But you know what?” He grabbed her horn, forcing her to tilt back her head. “The babe I’m flushed for? Vita? Rapoto, she wants the Seer _safe_. That means you can’t go fuckin’ with her.”

His free hand swung up and around to smash into his throat. Gagging, he released her horn and stepped back. A scowl came to his face, and he straightened slowly. “Hey, human. Name’s Kijani Nijole. Vita said I should help you with your Seer. You go try to—”

“You won’t find her,” Devaki said.

Hugh stared at her.

Kijani smirked. “ _Wow_ , Grand Highblood. Can’t believe you’re _talkin’_ , much less to a couple of lowbloods like us. What, ain’t ya gonna use us as your voice?”

“Why would I use _you_ for my voice, Kijani?”

He threw back his head and cackled. “I _missed_ you, you tasty bitch!” He jerked his thumb at her again, grinning at Hugh. “Get a fuckin’ load of her, man!” He turned back, leaning closer once more. “You sure you don’t want a little black fling with me? Mahima don’t have to know.” He drew in a slow breath through his fangs, eyes closing partway. “Because _damn_ do I want to fuck you till your bones break.”

“No.”

He sneered a smile. “Picky bitch.”

Hugh’s voice burst from his mouth: “Where’s Amie?”

Devaki blinked and turned to look at him. Her head tilted again. “You’re not going to find her. I won’t let you.”

He shook his head fiercely, hands closing to fists. “Tell me what you’re doing to her!”

Silence.

“God dammit, _tell me_!”

She shook her head.

“Tell me or I’ll—”

“No,” she said. “You can’t make me talk. You know that.”

“Then I’ll tell Azriel what you’re doing and _he’ll_ make you talk!”

She sighed heavily, the hiss of her breath muffled by the scarf. “He won’t tell you anything. This is his plan.”

“Makram ordered you to fuck with my girl Vita’s moirail?” Kijani asked. “Why?”

“Not going to tell you.”

“Babe, either you fuckin’ tell us or I’ll start kickin’ your ass.”

The shine of a smirk came into her eyes. “It won’t be a fair fight.”

He smiled slowly. “You wanna make it fair and have some fun? Or are you just fuckin’ _scared_ to fight me without the Mindgrip?”

Her eye twitched; her gaze went dark.

“I fuckin’ _bet_ that’s what it is.” He snickered, looking to Hugh. “Man, the motherfuckin’ Grand Highblood scared of an orange-blooded troll? Makram picked the wrong person to be his right hand, right?”

Her brows dropped.

A cold coil of fear began to writhe in Hugh’s stomach. “Man—man, _stop_. You’re pissing her off.”

Kijani ignored him. “Babe, I got you all figured out. You _know_ you can’t beat me, so you run around usin’ the Mindgrip and bein’ a bone-bulge suckin’ _coward_.”

“Don’t call me a coward,” she said quietly.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want, babe.”

The fear started to crawl up Hugh’s spine. “Kijani, _shut up_.”

“Man, I ain’t scared of her. Never have been, never fuckin’ will.”

“Your knees are shaking,” Devaki murmured.

Kijani looked down. When he looked up, he locked his knees and sneered. “You’re makin’ ‘em do that, bitch.”

“Not with the Mindgrip. You want a fair fight? Better find something for your strife deck that’s not your psionics. Not really fair for one asshole to have psychic powers when I can’t use mine.”

He looked up in thought. His sneer became a grin. “Nah.”

“You’re the one who wanted a fair fight.”

His grin grew. “Yeah, but you should know better.”

A whip wrapped around her throat, pulling her from her feet and bringing her back against a broad chest. She grabbed at the whip, kicking as she held it just enough to drag air down her throat. Though she closed one hand and summoned up its gauntlet, the knife only skittered along the whip. Her arm was surrounded by purple flames and held out to her side.

Kijani walked forward and took her chin in his free hand. “Rapoto, you know I always lie to you.” He looked up to the arrow-horned troll holding the whip and smirked. “Been a while, my rust-blooded buddy. Glad you got my message, Vilmos.”

“I knew I’d fucking find you,” the man snarled at Devaki. “You’re not getting away. You’re fucking dead, highblood.” He pulled tighter; her eyes pinched shut as she choked.

Hugh reappeared from frozen time and slammed his wrenched into the back of Vilmos’ head. He let go of the whip to clutch at his head, swearing loudly. Devaki landed coughing, hands at her throat. Kijani stared with his mouth slightly open, too stunned to keep the psychic hold on her arm. Pale-faced, Hugh stared back.

“You—grub-fucking—shit-eating—motherfucking—” He whirled to face Hugh, eyes blazing. “I’ll _kill_ you!”

Hugh reacted without fully thinking: he swung his wrench up to slap Vilmos hard across the face. The firework explosion threw him from his feet; Devaki ducked further to let him fly overhead and crash into Kijani. They hit the roof with a great swell of cursing. When a hand fell on her shoulder, Devaki turned with her fist shut and knife out. She waited to strike, and so she did not plunge the knife into Hugh’s throat.

“Can you really fly with those wings?” he hissed.

She nodded.

“Then you get out of here right now.” He walked to stand before her, bringing out his other wrench. “I’ll—I’ll figure out how to talk them down.”

“What.”

“Look, you scare the shit out of me, but Azriel— _trusts_ you, and I have to trust him. If I’m going to be a leader, then I have to deal with pissed off people.” He looked over his shoulder with a weak smile. “So go.” He turned back to see the two other trolls taking to their feet. “I’ll figure it out.”

Vilmos, black char around his eyes, roared as he pulled back his whip. Kijani scowled, raising his flame-surrounded hands. Hugh grit his teeth and lifted his wrenches. He tried to swallow and couldn’t manage it.

Devaki flitted past him. She caught the whip around one arm and flicked a knife at Kijani with the other. The surprise of her attack let the knife pierce his shoulder, and she pulled Vilmos forward while his eyes were still wide. She jumped up and slammed her heels against his face. He stumbled back, rusty blood spewing from his nose. In her fall, she twisted about to land on hands and knees, and she ran back to Hugh in an instant.

His legs swung him about and pelted him toward the edge of the roof. He leaped as Devaki did, bounding to the next rooftop. What might have been an undignified crash landing was guided into a safe roll he did not know how to make, and he sprang back to his feet to keep running. For a terrifying moment, he could not see her and thought she had abandoned him. His dash suddenly swerved to one side, and his next jump was a dive that aimed his hands at Devaki’s outstretched arms.

Floating on her wings, she heaved him about and tossed him to the wall of an alleyway. He hit it with hands and feet, and rebounded down unconsciously. He slid on the steel wall a moment before jumping back again, and he soon arrived at the ground. Devaki stood there waiting for him and gestured for him to be quiet. He slumped against a wall, working to keep his panting silent. Gulping air, he closed his eyes.

“They won’t follow us,” she said.

He looked at her, meeting the gaze of her narrowed eyes. “Oh—oh good.” He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. “Holy crap—I hit him in—in the face.”

She crouched down slowly and balanced on her toes to stare at him. “Why’d you do that?”

“Be-because Azriel said you’re his right hand. That means—he trusts you.” He rubbed at a stitch in his side. “You guys still scare me, but—I don’t know.” He snorted a laugh. “Hey, this time you’re talking. Makes it a little easier to not be piss-my-pants scared when I know you can talk.”

Devaki regarded him in silence. She watched him draw deep breaths; she looked at his face as his cheeks lost their heated flush. When he spoke again, she listened.

“Are...are you really not going to tell me what’s going on with Amie?” he asked. “‘Cause—look, I know Azriel’s your emperor and he has all these big damn plans, but she’s my _sister_.” He looked at her with his brows knit and rising up in pleading. “I’m her leader and her brother. I want to make sure she’s okay, and there’s something happening to her. Can—Devaki, can you _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

Her eyes widened slightly. She tipped back, rocking so her feet settled flat on the ground. Slowly, she sat down with her legs drawn up to her chest. She looked down and tugged the scarf off her face. With a small twitched of her head, an earpiece appeared in her undamaged right ear, and a microphone coming from the temple of her glasses rested on her cheek. The lenses of the glasses became screens, and her eyes darted back and forth. When the lenses were pure bright white, showing the bags beneath her eyes in sharp contrast, she paused. She took her glasses off and held them in her hands with the microphone and earpiece turned up.

“Az?” she said quietly.

Hugh heard the reply: “ _What’s up, serpent sister? You have to talk louder_.”

“Can we tell the Heir what’s happening?”

“ _That’s weird of you to ask._ ”

“He’s here right now.”

“ _What? Why?_ ” The voice grew louder. “ _Brother? What the fuck are you doing there?_ ”

“Vilmos and Kijani are here,” Devaki said. “They’re trying to find her.”

“ _If Ildiko is there, it’s not to find our Seer sister._ ”

“Yeah. He tried to kill me again.”

“ _Not surprised.”_

“So can we tell him?”

Hugh leaned forward. “Azriel, _please_ tell me what’s going on! If you do, I can _help_ your plan—I can make sure we don’t mess it up! Man, you know she’s really my sister. I need to know what’s up.”

Silence.

“I’m your time brother. And—and you’re the emperor. I’m asking to know what’s going on to help keep your people—your brothers and sisters safe. _Please_.”

“He hit Vilmos in the face,” Devaki said with a small smile. “Vilmos had his whip around my neck, and the Heir hit him in the face.” A pause. “He helped me, Az.”

After a moment, a rush of static told of chuckling. “ _He fucking helped you, sister? How about that._ ”

“Can we tell him?”

A pause. “ _Brother._ ”

“Yeah?”

“ _You swear to me that you’re not going to screw this up._ ”

“Okay.”

“ _Because if you don’t listen all the way through and go flipping your shit, you will fuck everything up so bad we won’t be able to go back and fix it. You fuck up, it screws with the alpha timeline. I’ve got a few corpses of us showing me that. So swear to me that you’ll listen to her._ ”

Devaki jerked. “Me? Az, I can’t explain it.”

“ _Sure you can. You need to talk more often, sister._ ”

“But—”

“ _Orders, sister._ ”

Her head twitched down. “Yes sir.”

“ _Good girl. Don’t worry, brother. She really does know what’s going on. Now tell him._ ”

Slowly, she put her glasses back on. The earpiece and microphone vanished, and she stared past Hugh’s shoulder. After a moment, she nodded and opened her mouth.

\-------  
—rewind reset: 20 minutes ago—

—anlaceAgent [AA] began trolling aspiringCarver [AC]—

AA: Amie?  
AA: Are you all right?  
AC: yeah i’m  
AC: i’m fine  
AC: just  
AC: can  
AC: devaki can you just talk to me?  
AA: I’m fucking talking to you right now. What else do you want?  
AC: no i mean  
AC: like  
AC: i’m using a microphone right now  
AC: it shows up in pesterchum like i always type  
AC: but i don’t hear you  
AC: i just see text and i can’t  
AC: my head hurts really badly right now and it’s hard to read text on a tiny screen  
AC: i thought  
AC: maybe you could just talk to me  
AC: because you started trolling me out of nowhere  
AA: No.  
AC: oh my god devaki please  
AA: It won’t be any comfort to you.  
AA: I’m  
AA: I’m not skilled at talking.  
AA: It won’t be anything like when I type.  
AC: i don’t care  
AC: i don’t want to read text right now  
AC: and i can’t talk to my friends either  
AC: please  
AC: i just need to hear someone’s voice  
AC: please  
AA: ...  
—voice chat enabled—  
AA: There. Now you can hear me.  
AC: ...  
AC: oh  
AA: Yeah.  
AA: Bad.  
AC: no it’s not  
AC: no  
AC: just keep talking to me  
AC: please  
AA: About what.  
AC: i don’t know  
AC: just talk  
AA: Tell me why you’re crying.  
AC: i’m not crying  
AA: Okay.  
AA: I’m sick of this.  
AA: Look.  
AA: My chat program lets me see you.  
AA: I saw you run into this room and sit down crying.  
AA: And now I can see your head’s bleeding.  
AA: What the fuck is going on?  
AC: you can see me?  
AC: jesus christ how long have you been able to see me?  
AA: Stop.  
AA: Stop crying.  
AC: don’t order me around!  
AC: god dammit  
AC: i’m scared and hurt and i’m so tired from hearing that horrible singing  
AC: and you’re yelling at me to stop crying?  
AC: just turn your stupid microphone off if you’re going to  
AA: No.  
AA: Stop crying.  
AA: Stop  
AA: stopstopstopstopstop  
AA: I’ll make them  
AA: THEM  
AA: WHO’S DOING THIS?  
AC: what?  
AA: WHO’S MAKING YOU CRY?  
AC: devaki wait  
AA: TELL ME SO I CAN KILL THEM  
AC: wait!  
AA: NO  
AA: TELL ME NOW  
AA: I’LL KILL THEM  
AC: devaki stop!  
AC: oh god please stop yelling like that!  
AA: YOU  
AA: I  
AA: ...  
AA: then  
AA: Then tell me what’s happening.  
AA: Tell me who’s hurting you.  
AC: devaki what the hell?  
AC: why did you start shouting?  
AA: Because you’re crying.  
AA: I can’t  
AA: It makes me angry.  
AA: SO FUCKING ANGRY  
AA: TELL ME  
AC: devaki stop it!  
AC: i’m not going to tell you if you keep yelling at me!  
AA: ...  
AA: who is it  
AC: ...  
AC: they’re  
AC: they’re making me listen to singing  
AC: out on derse  
AC: oh god devaki  
AC: the queen and her agents  
AC: these two  
AC: these two guys  
AC: they look exactly the same and they sound the same  
AC: she called them jack  
AC: and they brought me to the queen and said it was because i’m the seer of void  
AC: because i can see how things fail  
AC: and they said if i ever told my friends what’s wrong that they’d kill liam  
AC: they have liam locked up somewhere and they’ll kill him if i try to run away  
AC: but oh god  
AC: devaki  
AC: the gods sing to me all the time  
AC: they want me to kill my friends  
AC: so derse can win  
AC: and then they can  
AC: can eat skaia  
AC: and now i woke up on some roof in the middle of the city and hugh was there and he was trying to help me and i hit him in the face with my head because the gods wanted me to do that  
AC: and some guy troll grabbed me when i tried to hide in the void and run away  
AC: because i can’t be near my friends  
AC: oh god devaki  
AC: i don’t want to kill my friends  
AC: devaki i don’t know what to do  
AA: Stop.  
AA: Breathe.  
AA: Listen to me.  
AC: ...  
AC: okay  
AA: I know who the woman was.  
AA: The troll woman who threw you off a roof before.  
AC: oh my god how does that help me at all?  
AA: Because that was me.  
AC: ...  
AC: what  
AA: I don’t know what we did  
AA: But I’m going to be there in your game.  
AA: And I’m going to find out what to do.  
AA: I’ll  
AA: I’ll go to Prospit.  
AA: The White Queen will know what to do.  
AA: Amie  
AA: Listen.  
AA: Seeing you cry pisses me off so bad I can’t deal with it.  
AA: So I’m going to make sure you don’t have to cry anymore.  
AA: Okay?  
AC: what  
AC: are you  
AC: you’re screwing with me  
AA: I’m not.  
AA: That was me. I’m sure it was.  
AA: And I know I’m not smart like Azriel  
AA: But I’m going to figure out a way to help.  
AC: why?  
AA: Because you don’t hate me, and you help me calm down.  
AA: And I don’t want to lose someone like that.  
AA: So don’t cry anymore.  
AA: Tell me what you need.  
AC: just  
AC: talk to me a little longer  
AA: Okay.

\-------  
DIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh mysteries and misleading statements. I do like you.


	13. The Serpent's Tale

=> AUTHOR: Be meta and pull a FAKEOUT COMBO.  
\-----  
You want to know my story?

yeah  
please just keep talking to me  
\-----  
You are now DEVAKI RAPOTO. You are 9 SOLAR SWEEPS OLD.

You are a DERSE DREAMER and the descendant of the ASSASSIN LOSTEDGE.

You are DYING on the LAND OF DUSK AND CLOAKS.

But that’s neither HERE nor THERE.

You had a life BEFORE SGRUB, and THAT’S what you want to tell the SEER about. You want to keep her ASLEEP, and you’re going to tell her a TALE to ward off the SINGING.  
\-----  
Then we have to go back to Azriel.  
\-----

The first real memory Devaki had was of Azriel Makram standing over her, smiling as her blood dripped off his knuckles. She sat stunned in the surf outside her seaside hive, two sweeps old and cognizant of another troll for the first time. There had always been a vague sense of awareness of other trolls existing with information from education droids and the books they left behind, but her lusus had never allowed anyone close enough for her to see them. The blinding fury that had filled her at his appearance from the waves, from a place her lusus would not have looked, dissipated in that first reply of a punch from him, and she stared in awe. He was faster; he was stronger; and he was completely immune to her fumbling Mindgrip.

He smiled then and crouched down to pat her head between her horns.

“You’re mine,” he said cheerfully. “You’re my sister, so that makes you mine.”

She nodded without really knowing why.

The next time Azriel came to her hive, not even two weeks later, he brought along a troll so small Devaki was certain she was barely out of the brooding caverns. He carried her on his shoulders, smiling as Devaki leaped out of a window to get to them.

There was rage boiling in her: fury that the troll who had so easily beaten her returned with a smile; anger at his bringing along such a tiny creature to spite her about her weakness. The rage stilled when her feet hit the ground and she looked properly at the little troll. The girl stared back so steadily she did not blink when Azriel lifted her from his shoulders and set her on the ground. She stood barefooted and in a yellow-dyed Libra shirt that was too big for her; her conical horns were nearly horizontal. She stared up at Devaki, eyes massive and unafraid, and stretched out her hands as though she wanted to be picked back up.

The tension that had filled Devaki naturally to that point vanished so quickly her muscles collapsed and made her fall face first to the ground.

Azriel laughed as he rolled her onto her back. “You’re trying too hard, little sister! I know she’s scary, but you don’t want to make her fall down!” He pulled her to sit up and flopped onto the ground before her when she was upright. He waved the girl forward and pulled her into his lap when she drew close. He said, “Okay, so tell each other your names.”

The girl turned and looked at him.

“Go on. She’s not going to bite you or cull you or anything.”

The girl looked back to Devaki. After a moment, she said, “Sitara Jalena.”

Devaki sat with her mouth closed.

“Come on, sister,” Azriel said. “Talk for me. What’s your name?”

The girl echoed him: “What’s your name?”

She continued to sit in silence.

“Talk for your emperor, sister.”

She slowly opened her mouth. Her voice, unused for more than half a sweep, cracked and failed. She dropped her head.

Azriel’s brows bounced up. “Can you talk at all?”

She shrugged.

“That’s not useful. I need you to talk.”

She mouthed, _Why?_

“Because you’re going to be my right hand, sister. A Grand Highblood with the Mindgrip? You’re important. That’s why your lusus has been killing everyone that comes near your hive.” He smirked. “She’s letting _me_ in because she knows I won’t really hurt you.”

Devaki looked at him with narrowed eyes, head still low as she drew breath.

“You want to know who I am, right? Azriel Makram, future emperor. And you...you can write, yeah?”

She nodded.

He pointed to the ground. “Write your name.”

She hesitated, but scratched out the letters in the dirt.

Azriel read them with a tilted head. “Devaki Rapoto, huh? Okay then. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to call more carpenter droids so Sitara can build a hive near here. That way, you get to stay not-angry and she gets to stay safe. And she can get you to start talking again, too.”

For a moment, both Sitara and Devaki were silent. When the moment passed, Sitara got out of Azriel’s lap. She toddled over, climbed into Devaki’s lap, and arranged herself comfortably. Devaki immediately relaxed, shoulders slumping. Her ease was so complete she began to purr quietly. Azriel laughed, but Sitara purred in response.

\-----  
wait are you serious?  
trolls purr?

What the fuck else would I do when my moirail sits in my lap?  
And I was two sweeps old. It’s a big fucking thing if you find your moirail when you’re that little, and mine just sat right the hell down in my lap.  
Of course I was going to purr.

okay so now i get what you meant when you talked about moirails before  
but what’s a kismesis supposed to be?  
\-----

Devaki and Sitara were a sweep apart in age, and it was when Sitara was five sweeps old that she asked to go to the nearest city. Before they went, Azriel gave Devaki her first pair of glasses and waved away her protests that she didn’t need them.

“I want you to make people think you _do_ need them, sister,” he said. “It’ll be a surprise if they ever think they can get an advantage by getting them off you.”

She walked through the streets feeling them constantly slipping down her nose and adjusting them awkwardly. Sitara barely noticed; she was concentrating on walking without being run over by other trolls. She was still a tiny thing and a yellow blood atop it, and she eventually reached out to hold the last two fingers on Devaki’s left hand and walk at her side. Though she wasn’t the tallest troll in the city by any stretch of the imagination, people moved aside when they noticed the color of the Virgo symbol on her shirt.

However, a boy with arrowhead horns and a rust red Sagittarius symbol on his shirt did not step aside. He stopped dead in front of her, standing with his feet spread and his arms crossed. He glared down at her, and Devaki felt her neck tighten. When his glare turned to Sitara and his arm drew back, the tension left her for shock. She saw him smash his fist against Sitara’s face, knocking her to the ground, and heard him barking about her being a traitor to lowbloods, walking around holding hands with a highblood.

The next thing she knew, she was being held off the ground by the back of her shirt. The boy was on the ground, screaming as blood poured from the stumps where the last three fingers on his left hand had been. A knife from her strife deck was in her hand. Sitara had gotten her wits about her by then, though, and she calmed Devaki enough to see and turn toward her assailant. A girl with nubby horns and a candy-red Cancer sign on her shirt looked back with a scowl.

Devaki kicked her in the face. The girl let her go; her hands flew up to clutch at her bleeding nose. Red droplets the same shade as her symbol fell from between her fingers. She stared at Devaki and Devaki stared back.

White hot pain cut across the left side of her face, and she stumbled back with a strangled scream. Her glasses had been knocked from her face; tiny cuts near her eye made her slam it shut. When she reached up, she discovered the bloody hash that had been made of her ear. She turned to find the boy on his feet, whip in his undamaged hand. With the measure of the calmness Sitara had given her, she was able to concentrate and grab the pair of them in the Mindgrip. She held them where they stood and walked slowly forward, clenching her hand around the knife.

The boy spat at her; she made him punch himself in the mouth before collapsing into unconsciousness. The brief lapse in concentration was enough for the girl to move, and she leaped at Devaki. She tackled her, breaking a pair of ribs for her effort. Snarling, she held Devaki down.

“You _pathetic_ excuse for a highblood,” she hissed. “You’re barely more than a wild woofbeast. The fact that you would be congratulated if you killed a mutant like me fills me with so much hatred I could _vomit_. And rest assured, if I did, I would spit it in your eye.”

Devaki smiled slowly. She caught the girl’s mind and made her keep still. She slipped out from beneath her, stood up, and made her tilt her head. With a hissing chuckle, she leaned in and kissed her. When she came away, she hooked her fangs in the girl’s lower lip and cut tiny lines in it.

“What’re your names?” she asked.

The girl’s lips trembled as she tried to resist the Mindgrip, but she spoke in the end. “Mahima Virote and Vilmos Ildiko.”

“Do you have a kismesis?”

“No.”

“Now you do.”

Mahima gave her a twisted smile. “I figured. So what’s your name?”

“Devaki Rapoto.”

“I look forward to breaking your bones.”

“And I look forward to making you punch yourself.”

“That’s the best you can come up with?”

She shrugged, wincing at the pull of muscles against broken ribs. “For right now, I just want you to go to sleep.” She tilted her head; Mahima’s eyes rolled back and she fell forward. Smiling, she turned to Sitara. She had retrieved her glasses and held them out. Devaki took them and, ignoring the blood smeared on the lenses, put them back on. There was enough left of her ear to allow their presence, but she still winced with the pain. She went to Vilmos and kicked him hard in the ribs.

When they returned and related the story, Azriel laughed and tended to her injuries. He had Sitara find the duo on Trollian and added them to the chumproll.

\-----  
oh my god  
you kissed her?!

Yes.  
I hated her from the minute she pulled me off Vilmos.

then why would you kiss her?!

That’s what you do with your kismesis.

what’s that supposed to mean?  
jesus you keep not explaining this thing

Sorry.  
Trolls have quadrants of romance.  
You have a black romance with your kismesis.  
Basically, you hate someone—but still respect them—and you hate them so much you want to fuck them.

what

Mahima is attractive.  
And she’s smarter than me.  
And stronger, but she’s a mutant.  
She doesn’t have to worry about going stupid blind with anger like me, and she holds it over me.  
The last ones make me want to fuck with her, but I also really want to just fuck her.

jesus christ  
are trolls just about violence and hate?  
don’t you love anything?

We do.

oh yeah?  
what? or who?

Our matesprits.  
They’re our flushed red romance. Aside from our moirails, they’re the person we’re happiest with.

oh  
okay

All right, what.

huh?

What do you want to ask? I can tell you want to ask something.

it’s nothing

Just ask.

i just  
wanted  
to know if you had a  
matesprit  
i guess

I don’t.

oh  
okay

Do you?

do i  
do i what  
do i have a matesprit  
humans don’t even have a thing like that

Then what do you have?

boyfriends and  
well  
for me it’d just be a girlfriend  
but i don’t have one

Hmm.

okay anyway  
so what happened after that?

Azriel kept scheming.  
\-----

The Emperor Anathematic had no plans to abdicate his throne peacefully, and his lack of plans was why Azriel schemed ever since being a wriggler. While there were still bandages on Devaki’s ear and face, he finally brought a fellow sea dweller ashore. Meztli Branko was a proud troll, younger than Azriel by half a sweep but equal in age to Devaki. He was bigger than her; he held his broad shoulders back and showed off his magenta Aquarius sign. He greeted Devaki by way of a challenge to a duel, swordkind versus knifekind.

When Azriel declared Devaki winner by virtue of having fewer lacerations on her person, Meztli laughed and clapped her on the back. When he began to shyly red flirt with Sitara, Devaki did not feel the need to threaten him. It helped that Sitara openly flirted back. Azriel noticed and patted her on the head.

After her ear had healed as best it ever would, he had her and Sitara act as emissaries of sorts to the land dwellers he contacted. He sent them in a pattern undefined by blood caste: they wandered to the blue blood Scorpio Cosmin Kerkan, aspiring legislacerator, and his dark green blood Leo matesprit Aminta Thetis, who sought to follow her matesprit into justice. They went to the Capricorn Galina Tenoch, who had joined Azriel in a moirallegiance despite her light green shade. The azure blooded Gemini Platon Jadzia sought them out first to pledge his loyalty to Azriel’s cause. Kijani Nijole, orange blooded and Aries and proud, chased after them with wild laughter and hurling his psionics at every chance after Vilmos had told him of them. Azriel went out on his own only once: to meet Parisa Ruzgar, a teal blood Taurus who he had grown flushed for.

If she had free time, Devaki would have her lusus take her back to the city. Riding on the winged serpent’s back, holding the hood of her cloak up against the wind, she smiled. Before she left, she always sent a message to Mahima. They met on a rooftop near the edge of the city and sneered smiles at each other. Devaki sprinted away, bounding across the buildings with Mahima giving chase. They caused great deals of property damage in their fights. Devaki came away with broken bones; Mahima left with new cuts showing her mutant blood.

At eight sweeps, Mahima pinned her to a wall, bit into her shoulder, and just managed to keep from shattering all the bones in her lower body while she fucked her. Devaki laughed the entire time, caught Mahima in the Mindgrip when she was finished, and fucked her just as hard in return.

\-----  
dev  
devaki wait  
stop  
don’t tell me about this

Amie?  
Are you crying?  
Am  
am I making you cry?

yeah

Why?  
How?  
What’s wrong?

i don’t  
the gods are singing so loudly right now  
and they’re  
it’s about  
devaki i don’t want to think about you like that

I  
Amie  
I didn’t mean to

talk about something else  
please

Like what?

how’d you start the game?

But  
I  
Okay.

you’re a god now, right?  
how’d that happen?

Vilmos finally killed me.  
\-----

Devaki trusted Azriel implicitly. She had done so ever since he brought Sitara to calm her down. She trusted his plans and his schemes, and so she did what he told her. She sought out the trolls that became their allies. That he managed to subtly control the trio that wanted to ruin his plans assured her that he was right.

When he told her that the game he had Sitara create would keep them together, keep her from having to leave to follow the draft of the Emperor Anathematic to steal her and her Mindgrip away, she trusted him. He said if they won the game, he would become the emperor and there would be no order to separate her from him and her moirail and lose the sanity she’d gained. She wanted him to be emperor; she wanted to be his right hand. She trusted him and made sure all the trolls joined the session.

So when he found her on Sitara’s Land of Magic and Knights and told her she had to die, she trusted him.

When he said she should let Vilmos kill her, she tried and failed to keep from reaching up to her ear. He patted her on the head for a long time, told her to go back to the Land of Dusk and Cloaks, and promised he’d be watching over them.

Vilmos was the Heir of Rage. He had heard the voices of the dead since his youth, and he roared at her when he arrived.

“You _fucking_ highblood!” he shouted. “Do you know how long _your_ kind have held down _mine_?”

She said nothing.

“The voices told me about the Assassin! They told me about Lostedge and how she was the one who slaughtered lowbloods left and right for the Emperor Anathematic! They told me how it was the lowest of the lowbloods who was supported and fought against you proudly! And do you know what they called her? They called her the Champion! Mahima’s ancestor—a mutant just like her—and _she_ was the one everyone loved! She didn’t even have a name, but she was the one who the lowbloods listened to!

“And after she was killed for spreading revolution, it was the Outsider who took up the cause! My ancestor went after yours for killing his matesprit—and I’m going to kill you before you can do that to Mahima!”

She closed her eyes moments before the tails of his whip slashed them out. When her head rocked back with the pain, the whip came again and cut her throat. She stumbled away, clutching at her neck and feeling blood run between her fingers. Vilmos charged and tackled her. He pounded his fists against her chest and stomach, breaking as many bones as he could find. When his satisfaction was still not found, he rolled her over, stood up, and stomped on her back to break her spine.

There was just enough in her to reach out and slip the Mindgrip around his thoughts. He laughed because she whispered to his mind that he should. He spat on her broken back of his own volition, but he left her where she was because she sent him away.

For what felt like a very, very long time, she lay alone and dying. The pain eventually faded into numbness; she had stopped feeling her legs the moment he stomped down. Just when she thought she couldn’t face death alone, a hand patted her head.

“It’s okay, sister,” Azriel murmured. “Hang on a little longer.” He paused. “I’m sorry for this.”

She didn’t understand until he picked her up. Had she been able to, she would have screamed with the pain that rushed back with the movement of her shattered body. He arranged her carefully in his arms and started off. It was only moments in her perception before he was setting her on smooth, level stone. He stayed beside her and kept his hand on her head.

“You’re going to die now, Devaki,” he said. “It’ll be like going to sleep. Breathe nice and slow. Do that for me, sister.”

She did her best. She wished Sitara was there; she was shaking, but she didn’t know if it was from pain or from fear. She had never really felt either before.

“I have to get off your quest bed now,” he said. “But when you wake up, I’ll be up there on Skaia with you. You’ll be just fine.”

She managed to nod.

His hand went away.

She died.

Devaki opened her eyes again and saw Azriel standing below on the black and white checkered field, waving and grinning. Slowly, she realized she was flying. It made her smile.

\-----  
wait  
he seriously had you go get beaten to death?  
and you just let all that happen?

I said I trust him.  
You have to die to reach god tier.  
It would have happened sooner or later.

yeah but  
jesus christ devaki  
why’d you have to get BEATEN to death?!

Azriel wanted Vilmos to kill me to teach him a lesson.

what lesson?!

That I’m not my ancestor. None of us are.  
We’re not trying to do the same thing as them.  
If we wanted to hold some grudge, fine.  
Let him.  
But no matter how much he fights us he won’t ever win.  
We’d always come back.  
It made him flip his shit the next time he saw me, so it  
Amie?  
You’re  
crying again.

yes i’m fucking crying  
you just told me you were BEATEN to death for no good fucking reason  
so you’re saying we’re following the lead of an asshole who would let a person he calls his sister and his right hand just DIE to teach another asshole a stupid lesson  
yeah  
that’s really comforting

Amie, it’s not like that.

what’s not like what dev?

Azriel’s not an asshole.  
He knew I’d come back.  
You can only die in god tier if it’s a heroic death or if it’s just.  
It wasn’t either for me.

you weren’t a fucking god then!!  
you were just a mortal who could have died and never come back and never won and never started to  
just  
devaki  
you fucking died okay?  
it’s gonna make me upset

Why?

because you died  
you died in a really horrible way

But I’m alive now.  
I’m immortal.  
If you’re scared about it hurting, I

devaki jesus christ  
it’s because it was you  
you devaki  
you died  
that’s what makes me upset

But  
why?

...  
wow  
you really are stupid

I know that.  
You don’t have to keep fucking repeating it.  
Just tell me why me dying makes you upset.

...  
<3  
<3 is why

...

devaki?

...

devaki for god’s sake  
please don’t leave me alone right now

...

devaki please!  
look i’m sorry i said it!  
i take it back!  
just  
if you’re not talking in my head all i hear is the singing!  
please don’t leave me alone!  
i take it back i take it back I TAKE IT BACK!

Don’t  
Don’t cry  
Please  
Please  
Please

why the fuck shouldn’t i cry?!  
you’re telling me this awful story and i feel so bad for you and you’re just shrugging it all off like it doesn’t matter!  
you’re probably just thinking that i’m an overreacting idiot because that’s just how troll life works and i just don’t understand because i’m a fuck-wit who doesn’t understand anything!  
but i do get it and i understand but it still just makes me so upset and scared for you!  
and then when i do the stupidest possible thing and fucking tell you why it is that i’m so upset you do the completely normal thing and ignore me because i am a stupid fucking child!  
that’s all i am!  
a stupid fucking child!  
and stupid fucking children don’t get to be happy!

STOP  
STOP LISTENING TO THEM  
YOU’RE LISTENING TO THEM  
YOU’RE LISTENING TO THEIR LIES  
THEY’RE TRYING TO MAKE YOU FAIL  
THEY’RE TRYING TO HURT YOU AND  
THEY’RE  
they’re

wait

THEY ARE MAKING YOU CRY

devaki wait

THEY’RE THE ONES

please wait!  
don’t leave me alone with their singing!  
look  
yeah they’re making me cry!  
they scare me!  
but so do you when you flip out like this!  
i’m scared enough thinking about the plan because i know every last way it could fail!  
i can  
i can deal with it if you don’t like me or are flushed for me or whatever trolls do  
just please don’t punish me for being honest  
devaki please  
i’m scared  
you said you were going to help me

...  
Amie?

what?

I’m sorry  
I don’t  
know how to not scare people  
I don’t want to scare you  
because

devaki?  
devaki because what?

<3

you

<3  
I mean it.  
Just  
a little longer, okay?  
We’re almost there.  
So please don’t cry.

devaki

What?

can  
you’re here in our session, right?  
and you’re on losac  
can i see you before we do it?  
can you let me wake up and see you?

...  
I don’t know.  
But if I can’t, I want you to know something.

what?

I won’t let it hurt.  
I promise.

\-------  
DIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still sort of a terrible person with all these misleading statements.


	14. Ascension (1/3)

Your name is AZRIEL MAKRAM. You are 10 SOLAR SWEEPS OLD.

You have SCHEMED all your life to be an UNQUESTIONABLE KING. Back on ALTERNIA, you were the descendant of the EMPEROR ANATHEMATIC. Before SGRUB, you were a PROPHETIC PROSPIT DREAMER.

Before now, you had EVERYTHING in the PALM OF YOUR HAND.

But now, all the screens are going DARK.

One by one, everyone is DISAPPEARING. The GODS have gotten WHAT THEY WANT.

You are AZRIEL MAKRAM and you are FURIOUS.

You will show DERSE exactly why they never should have incurred the WRATH of a GOD-KING.  
\-----

Hugh had his arms full of frogs when his com-set began to chime furiously. He blinked water out of his eyes and waded out of the river’s heart. Sitting heavily on the silt bank, he held out the frogs. One after another, iguanas filed up to him and took a single frog each. When his hands were finally free, he tapped his temple and opened the set.

“Okay, Vita, I—”

_“Brother! Where the fuck are you?”_

Grimacing, eyes wide with pain, Hugh snapped, “Azriel, holy hell! Don’t scream into the mic like that!”

_“Tell me where the fuck you are!”_

“I’m on Lofaf helping Vita, like you ordered me to do four hours ago! Just check Trollian if you care so much!”

_“You’re not on my screen!”_

Hugh frowned. He looked into the sky and waved both hands over his head. “What, you can’t see me do this?”

_“Fucking listen to me, brother! I can’t see **any** of you! You’ve all gone dark!”_

“‘Gone _dark_ ’? What is that supposed to mean?”

_“It means that you need to get to Prospit right the hell now!”_

Hugh pushed himself to his feet, slapping the silt from his jeans. “Okay, okay, I’m going. I just have to—”

“Move!”

He spun about at the sound of his own voice. From the corner of his eye, he saw the flickering light of a lit fuse. He barely caught sight of the bundle of dynamite before a beaten and bloody double of himself fell upon it and bore it to the ground. In the explosion, his double was blasted to shreds and he was blown backward into the river. As he sank, he watched the shards of his com-set floated away. Dimly, he recognized that the shards were joined by blood flowing from his ringing ears. He closed his eyes, summoned a wrench, and caught hold of time.

\-------

Vita’s reflexes were always excellent. It had garnered attention in her youth, from children and adults alike. Her father had taught her to stay out of a fight, but he had honed her reflexes until she could catch anything he threw her way no matter which way she was facing.

It was thanks to that training that she was able to dodge the spear thrown at her head.

The spear’s crimson diamond tip shattered the appearifier’s screen, sending spider web cracks in every direction. Vita rolled along the floor when her dive ended, springing up the moment she could. Without looking back, she sprinted across the length of the lab. The computers beneath the vats of genetic ooze whirred as she ran, and the platform at the center of all of it began to crackle with electricity. She reached the platform just as the frog egg appeared and reached out to gather it up in her hands.

Another diamond-tipped spear stabbed through her right shoulder, knocking her backward and off her feet. She grit her teeth to close down on her shout of pain, but when black hands closed around the spear and rammed it into the floor, she could not stop her scream. A foot stamped onto her hand as she reached out for the frog egg, snapping the bones in her fingers. Vita opened her mouth not to scream, but to spit at the carapace as he leaned close with a switchblade in his free hand. He barely reacted, flinching only because her aim was true and the spittle struck his eye.

She teleported out from under him, reappearing close enough to grab the frog egg and shoving it down deep in her sylladex. The moment it was gone, a hand grabbed her by the back of the neck. Vita twisted as she was pulled up, swinging her crystal bokken as hard as she could with one arm. She struck the man across the face, and teeth flew out of his mouth in a spray of blood and spit. He dropped her with a loud curse; she scrambled to get her feet beneath her. Letting her sword fall back into her strife deck, she bolted for the door. A glimmer of light beyond the doorway caught her eye in time for her reflexes to respond, and she dropped to her knees immediately.

A wrench went flying over her head, and she heard a meaty crack not a second later. She looked up to find Hugh striding through the door. His clothes were singed and blood was smeared on his face and ears; his gaze was focused. He hurried in, reaching out in time with her. She gripped his hand tight enough for her knuckles to turn white and teleported them away.

When they reappeared at the edge of the volcano’s mouth, massive hands closed around their throats. They were lifted from their feet entirely and brought close to the face of an enormous carapace brute. He snarled at them, showing massive fangs. Without a word, he opened his mouth and began to cram Vita’s head inside. A loud pop from above made him stop, and the moment of hesitation gave Hugh and Vita the opportunity to move. Vita summoned her bokken and wedged it in the brute’s mouth; Hugh kicked him in the chest. They were released, and as they hit the ground, the saw Devaki fall upon the brute. Vita made to stand up and charge in after carapace and troll, but Hugh reached out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Wait,” he mumbled.

“No!” she snapped. “She needs help!”

“I’m fine,” he said dazedly. “The egg. The volcano. Now.”

In the distance, the brute grabbed Devaki by the throat and slammed her into the ground face first. Hugh blinked as Devaki went limp; his eyes grew focused. He shot to his feet.

“Throw the egg in there!” he shouted. “Throw it in there and then get us to Prospit!”

She pulled her hand free to retrieve the frog egg and pitched it into the lava. When it had left her fingers, she and Hugh moved in unison and sprinted away. The brute had lifted Devaki from the ground and was opening his mouth once again. As the chipped tip of one horn bumped against his chin, Devaki reacted. Coming instantly out of her stupor, she closed both hands, crossed her arms, and swung the shining blue blades of her wrist gauntlets through the brute’s throat. His head flew off, spinning in an arc that ended in the lava. The brute’s hands released Devaki, and she hit the ground at the same time as the headless body did. When Hugh and Vita slid to a stop beside her, all the questions they had died on their tongues.

Devaki’s clothes were in tatters: shredded by cuts and peppered with bullet holes. The cloth that was left was stained with her indigo blood. One of her wings had been ripped off crudely, broken along the segmentations close to her back. There were no glasses on her face, and a slash cut over her left eye. She opened her right eye when Hugh touched her shoulder.

“Hang on,” he said quietly. He turned to Vita, but she was already at his side and reaching out for the closest wound. Before Vita could touch her, Devaki caught her wrist.

“No,” Hugh said. “Prospit. Go to Prospit. Az. Take us...Az.” He blinked hard and swallowed slowly. “Okay, got it. Just put it in her head, Devaki.”

Devaki nodded vaguely, closing her eye. Vita felt a touch in her mind, wincing at the sensation. When a location came to her, she muttered, “I really hope you two can explain what’s going on once we get there.”

They vanished from Lofaf with one pop and came out of the space warp with another. All around them was gold, from the bricks beneath them to the tall buildings surrounding the circle they had appeared in. Carapaces with white shells gathered around them, staring at the spreading pools of indigo blood beneath Devaki with as much interest as they stared at Hugh and Vita’s injuries. Though they began to murmur loudly, heavy footfalls cut through the noise. A small troll woman with conical horns and a yellow-dyed Libra sigil on her black shirt was the first person to push through the crowd, and she dropped to the ground next to Devaki. Diluted yellow tears began to slide down her face as she pulled Devaki’s bloody head into her arms.

“Galina, _please_!” she said, turning back to look through the crowd. “Fix her! Put her matter back into order!”

Galina came forward with a frown on her face. She stopped many paces away and crossed her arms over her chest. Very slowly, she shook her head.

The small woman’s eyes widened. “Galina, please, I’m _begging_ you! Dev’s in pain! Fix her! She has to stay alive!”

Galina shook her head and said, “No, Sitara.”

Sitara took one hand from Devaki’s head and summoned a white wand from her strife deck. She aimed it at Galina and shouted, “ _Fix her_!”

“Calm down, little witch sister.”

The carapaces parted at the new voice, and their murmuring became a united whisper. They said, “The Prince. The Prince is here.”

Azriel strode forward, clad all in crimson. His boots of tanned leather rose half up his shins, and his trousers were tucked loosely into them. A doublet covered his torso; he left the high collar undone. A half-cape was draped over his left shoulder, but it did not cover the red gear emblazoned on his chest, not did it impede the purple wings extending from his back. There was no smile on his face as he came near, and he gestured for them all to move away. When they had, he kneeled down here Hugh had been before him.

“Az, _please_!” Sitara said. “Turn her time back!”

He did not reply, instead taking Devaki’s face in hand. She grunted when he worked her mouth open. Thick blood flowed over her lips and onto his fingers; he sighed as he took his hand away. As he flicked his fingers to cast off the blood, he said, “You let them hold you long enough to cut out your fucking tongue, sister. What the hell were you _doing_?”

Before anyone could react, he summoned his gun, pressed the barrel to Devaki’s temple, and shot her clean through the head.

\-----  
—rewind reset: 2 hours ago—  
\-----

dev?  
devaki?

What?

what’s going on?  
am i asleep?

Amie, what’s wrong with your voice?  
Why do you sound sleepy?

i’m  
dev where am i?

You’re on Losac.  
I’m trying to send you to your  
wait  
What the fuck?  
You’re not on my screen anymore.  
Your viewport is  
It’s dark.  
It’s all black.  
I can’t fucking see you.

dev  
am i asleep right now?  
i don’t

Amie  
Amie, open your eyes  
Tell me where the fuck you are

dev i can’t  
i can’t hear you  
they’re

No  
No no no  
Amie  
AMIE I ORDER YOU TO LISTEN  
LISTEN TO ME

devaki i can’t hear you  
am i awake?  
or asleep?  
i can’t hear you  
i’m  
the gods  
am i on derse now?  
what’s  
devaki  
devaki  
please  
help

AMIE  
COME BACK  
ANSWER ME  
AMIE  
NO  
NONONO

\-----  
—frame focus: NOW—  
\-----

Sitara stared with wide eyes and her mouth agape. Azriel stood up with a sigh, letting his gun fall back into his strife deck. He brought his hand over his shoulder and snapped his fingers. A second after Sitara launched herself at Azriel with a scream, she was caught round the waist by a tall, burly troll with lightning-crooked horns. He held her tight despite her violent struggling, accepting the elbows to his jaw and heels to his legs.

“He killed my moirail!” she screamed. “He _killed_ her! Let _go_ , let me _go_! Meztli, _let go_!”

“Shh,” the man murmured. “Just calm down.”

“Don’t you _dare_ try to shoosh me!” she howled at him. “You’re not my moirail! My moirail’s _dead_!”

“Quiet,” Azriel said evenly.

“ _Fuck you_!”

Azriel turned his head and lifted one brow. “Do you want to take that back?”

“Take back killing my moirail!”

Frowning, he turned back to Devaki’s body and said, “Fine.” He pushed aside his half-cape, reaching out with both hands. All at once, the face of a clock appeared beneath Devaki’s body, glowing brilliant red. A twist of Azriel’s fingers sent the clock’s hands whirling. Within seconds, Devaki’s body dissolved into a cascade of shifting light and color. Azriel returned his hands to his sides, frown lessening. Though the clock face vanished, the light in Devaki’s body did not. The cascade grew faster and brighter until it was blinding. A sharp crack sounded; the light faded. When they opened their eyes again, an uninjured and whole Devaki was slowly sitting up before them.

Sitara wrenched free of Meztli’s grasp and ran to Devaki. She threw herself into her lap, wrapping her arms around Devaki’s neck and hugging tight. Devaki reached up to pat Sitara’s horns almost absentmindedly, eyes unfocused as she stared at the golden ground under her. She blinked at the sharp snap of Azriel’s fingers and looked up.

“Thanks,” she slurred.

Sitara started and sat back to stare at Devaki with baffled horror in her face. “‘Thanks’? You’re _thanking_ him? He just _killed you_!”

“He made it stop hurting.”

“She’s god tier, sister,” Azriel said. “Killing her like I did wasn’t just or heroic. It was mercy. It made her resurrect and got rid of her wounds a lot faster than either of our space sisters could.” He reached down and put his hand firmly on Sitara’s head. “I’m not going to let my right hand die. Not when she has information important enough to get her tongue cut out. Now I need you to do your job as her moirail and keep her calm. Pretty sure this is going to piss her off.” He looked at Devaki. “Tell me what you know.”

There was a long pause. Devaki slowly pushed Sitara off of her lap and rose up on her knees. Standing, Sitara took hold of one of her horns; for a brief moment, Devaki purred. She went quiet as she reached into her sylladex and pulled out a large and lumpy purple sack. Closing her hand to extend a knife from her gauntlet, she cut open the top of the bag. One by one, she brought out the contents of the bag and set them at Azriel’s feet.

One by one, she took out the heads of four trolls and set them at the feet of their emperor.

The first was a woman with thick, upright horns; dark green blood was smeared around the stump of her neck. The next was a man with one hooked horn and one crescent moon-ended horn; blue blood marred the ragged skin of his throat. The next was another man, his horns numbering four with two on each side of his head; his blood was a bright azure blue. Devaki hesitated in presenting the last troll. Very carefully, she set the head of a teal-blooded woman with the wide-set horns of a bull at Azriel’s feet and did not meet his wide-eyed gaze.

She reached back into the bag for the last lump. As she brought it out, she turned to face Hugh and Vita. She put Liam’s head on the ground before them. When she pulled back her blood-smeared hands, she whispered, “Amie did this.”

Vita smashed her fist against Devaki’s face, breaking her nose with an audible crunch; Devaki responded instantly with the same blow. Vita let out a strangled shout of pain as her heels slipped on the golden bricks, but Devaki was faster than her. She grabbed the front of Vita’s shirt and slammed her to the ground. She ignored the hard kicks delivered to her stomach and legs, eyes growing wide and furious. Vita’s gaze was no less enraged, and her voice cracked when she screamed in Devaki’s bloody face.

“Amie didn’t do it!” she howled. “Amie’s not a killer!” She punched Devaki again, barely noticing when her knuckles were sliced open by her fangs. “She’s not like you! She’d never do it! You’re lying! You’re a fucking snake-tongued devil liar!” Once again, she punched Devaki across the face. “Fuck you! Fuck _all_ of you trolls! _You’re_ the one who killed Liam! You should have stayed dead! It would have been just! It would have been right! _Why aren’t you dead_?”

Vita reached up and closed her shaking hands around Devaki’s neck, pressing in the hollow of her throat as hard as she could with her thumbs. She screamed, “I hate _all of you_!”

Devaki let go of Vita’s shirt. She put one hand on the ground and put the other on Vita’s head. With the heel of her hand on Vita’s forehead, she closed her hand and dug her claws into her skin. With another cry of pain, Vita’s grip grew weak. Devaki bared her fangs and lifted Vita’s head high off the ground. The muscles in her arm and shoulder bunched up tight.

“Devaki, _no_!” Azriel roared.

Sitara reached out her hands; Devaki and Vita both went stone-still. Hugh and Azriel moved together slowly. Hugh took Vita’s hands away from Devaki’s throat as Azriel worked Devaki’s claws out of Vita’s scalp. Human and troll pulled their people apart. When they were some distance from each other, Azriel let go of Devaki. Hugh sat down and wrapped his arms tight around Vita as Sitara arranged herself in Devaki’s lap once more.

“Keep them quiet, Sitara,” Azriel said, “but let Devaki talk.”

Sitara nodded, beginning to pat Devaki’s cheeks in a steady, soft rhythm. Everyone went quiet and still; the only sound to be heard was the sound of Azriel’s slow, deep breathing.

“So,” he said. “Devaki. Tell me why it is.” He turned away and went back to the line of heads. He picked up the last woman’s heads by her horns and looked into her slack, still face. “Tell me why you’ve brought the emperor the head of his matesprit. Tell me why you’re saying the human you’re so flushed for cut off the head of her teammate.”

Devaki was silent. Her eyes were half-closed. When she spoke again, her voice was muddled from the blood clogging her nose.

“Amie’s screen in Trollian,” she said. “It went dark a couple hours ago. She said she couldn’t hear me in her mind over the Gods’ singing. And then I couldn’t control her anymore. I couldn’t make her open her eyes and show me where she was. I had to find her. I need her to be okay. So I went to Derse.”

\-----  
—rewind reset: 2 hours ago—  
\-----

Sitara’s psychic powers gave her the ability to calm those around her; the Void gave Amie the ability to scry failure. The instability of a highblood was a natural state; to find a way to calm the rage was to find a failure of some kind and exploit it. The longer the failure was left alone, the more the anger returned.

With Amie lost in silence and Sitara so far away, Devaki knew she was little more than a time bomb.

She flew back to the spirograph gates of Losac and threw herself through the sixth. She fell through the darkness of the Veil toward Derse. As she came closer, arcing around the chained moon to the planet itself, she saw the black carapaces moving in the streets. She alighted on a tall spire, looking down into the crowd. From so far away, she could hear nothing, and so she put the fingers of one hand to her temple.

Listening through the Dersite she took control of, she heard excited clamoring. There was something happening in the city square in front of the Black Palace, something amazing and grand. The Prince and Princess of the moon were awake and with the Queen, and something important was going to happen. Devaki let her grip on the Dersite slip away and began to leap from spire to spire. Even if she did not know the way to the palace, it would have been easy to find. When the palace came into view, she dropped down to the ground. She slipped into the crowds, hiding in a group of tall carapaces and clouding their minds. Believing she was one of their own, they led her to the city square. Her group was a late and slow arrival: it took them at least forty minutes to reach their distant destination. She stood too far away; from so great a distance, all she could see was the balcony looking over the city square. Slowly, she began to move through the crowd, blocking them from seeing her as she went.

“Citizens!” a voice called.

Devaki stopped instantly. She recognized the voice. She had listened very carefully during the speeches given on Derse during Sgrub. The voice of the Black Queen, smooth as satin and sharp enough to cut through the buzz of the crowd, was something she could not forget. She bit down on the growl in her throat and started to move forward once again.

“Citizens!” the Queen said. She waited for silence before speaking further. “You have all fought well in this war of ours. You have the gratitude of your King and Queen. We are here to deliver good news. The battles on Skaia are ending in victory after victory for the Dersite army. We will win this war, and we will win because of our superior weapons.”

At the sight of movement on the balcony, Devaki froze. She watched as pikes were lifted and set all along the edge of the balcony. Round shapes were on the ends of the pikes, but she could see no details. Her hands trembled; her neck grew tense. She moved closer still.

“These are the prizes our weapons have afforded us,” said the Black Queen. “Our war is very special, you see. There are extra players to contend with—players that already won their game. There are gods among them, and they think they can win again. But all you have to do is look at the prizes we’ve taken.”

Devaki realized the objects impaled on the pikes were heads.

“Look at them,” the Black Queen said with pride swelling in her voice. “The players are not the only ones who have increased their numbers. Our agents have doubled, and their doubles know of the new players. We have intelligence that the enemy does not, and we have used it to cut them down. With the information our doubles have given us, and with the information from our best weapon.”

Devaki did not look away from the Queen. Her pulse thundered in her ears. If she looked away, if she looked to the heads on the pikes, she did not know what she would do. She watched the Queen turn to look into the palace and gesture for something. Muffled shouting came to Devaki’s ears, growing louder as she drew closer. Liam, bound and gagged and struggled, was brought out on the balcony by Jack Noir and his exact double. He wore his Derse dreamer garb and screamed at the Queen through his gag until one Noir struck him on the back of the head. The Queen laughed.

“Our little Thief Prince,” she said, taking hold of his chin. “You tried so hard to escape from us. You gained so much power on the Land of Blaze and Stone that you could have taken control of the guards posted by your cell. If only we’d let you fall asleep before now. But our princess old us that we couldn’t let you sleep until now.” She let go of his chin to strike him with the back of her hand. Chuckling, she said, “You want to see the princess, don’t you? We’re certain you do.” She gestured again to someone standing in the shadows.

Devaki stopped at the inner edge of the crowd, still hidden but able to see every detail. By then, she no longer had coherent thoughts. She recognized faces, but did not fully understand speech. Her entire body was tense; she could barely keep from snarling. All she understood was that the Black Queen was her enemy. When the person the Queen gestured to emerged from the shadows, Devaki nearly leaped onto the balcony because she did not recognize them at first. Her dark gray skin made her look like a sun-scorched troll, but her eyes were white from lid to lid. The brown color of her hair was dull and muted; her Derse garb was the same. The way she smiled was so full of cruelty that Devaki closed her hands tight to draw her blades. Her toes curled inside her boots as she prepared to jump.

On the balcony, Liam stopped struggling. He stared at the woman with abject horror in his eyes. Even when the Black Queen laughed at him and stroked the woman’s cheek with the backs of her gleaming claws, he did not look away from the gray-skinned woman. He began to weep.

“Don’t you like your princess?” the Queen asked. “We think she looks beautiful like this. She’s been accepted by the Gods, you know. She’s happily in their throes.” She smiled and combed her fingers through the woman’s curls. “Aren’t you, Amie?”

Devaki’s control on the crowd around her began to fail as her eyes grew wide. She stared as Amie’s smile darkened, watched as she held out a hand to Jack Noir. She did not understand what was happening, even when Noir put a regisword in Amie’s waiting hand. She did not hear the gasps around her from the Dersites as her Mindgrip failed completely and her presence was revealed. It was only when Amie turned, looked directly at her, and grinned that Devaki understood. By then, it was too late.

As she leaped to the balcony, Amie turned back to Liam and cut off his head in one swing. When Devaki landed on the balcony’s railing, Amie spun back round and thrust the blade at her face. Devaki leaned back far and fast enough to keep the strike from being fatal, but the blade slashed the left side of her face, knocking off her glasses and cutting into her eye. While she was leaned back, Devaki finally looked at the heads on the pikes. She recognized the faces of Cosmin Kerkan, Aminta Thetis, Platon Jadzia, and Parisa Ruzgar. A gun fired from below, the bullet tearing through her right wind and piercing her shoulder. With a yowl of pain, she kicked off the balcony.

Instead of escaping, she soared just far enough away to dive into the crowd. She tackled a package courier and ripped the sack from his shoulder. In the moment she was on the ground, she was set upon by Dersites. They slashed at her with their knives and swords, trying to hack off her limbs and wings. She snarled at them, cutting down those closest to her before leaping back into the air. The blades followed her, stabbing and cutting as she flew back to the balcony. She pulled each head from its pike and stuffed them into the sack before dropping down to the empty balcony. Grunting with each pull, she wrenched out the knives that had sunken into her flesh. Liam’s head was retrieved and put into the bag, but the moment she shoved the bag into her sylladex, a hand grabbed hold of her damaged wing.

Devaki screamed as clawed fingers dipped into the hole in her wing and pulled hard. Her wing did not rip immediately; a bone-breaking kick was delivered to her back before it fully gave way. The next kick was given to her ribs, knocking her off her feet and onto her back. She reacted the second she hit the ground, closing her fist and aiming her bladed punch at the first face she caught sight of. When the person’s face came into focus, though, Devaki froze. Her blade stopped centimeters from Amie’s throat. Amie smiled at her. Around them, the empty balcony began to fill again. Jack Noir, his double, and the Black Queen all reappeared from thin air, smiling to show their gleaming fangs. In a heartbeat, the two men had grabbed hold of Devaki.

The Void let Amie find the failing point in Devaki’s mind and exploit it. Devaki went calmly limp, staring at Amie’s white eyes the entire time. When one Noir opened her mouth and the other pulled her tongue out into the air, Devaki did not struggle. It was the pain of Noir cutting out her tongue that snapped her out of Amie’s control, and she went berserk.

She thrashed, howling through a mouth full of blood and kicking violently enough to break free of Noir and his double. She swiped at both of them with her wrist blades, dizzy from pain and blood loss and missing repeatedly for it. They laughed at her and vanished from sight. Amie was the only one who remained on the balcony no matter where Devaki turned then, and her rage sputtered because she could not turn it against her. Even when Amie moved in and swung at her with the regisword, Devaki could not muster any anger. She blocked but did not parry; she dodged but did not return.

It took another gunshot to make Devaki snap out of her confusion. The bullet struck the tip of one of her horns, making her reel back with the sharp pain. Small infantry soldiers pounded up the hall leading to the balcony, rifles raised and trained on Devaki. She turned and bolted, leaping from the balcony as the pawns fired after her. Some shots struck her, but the pain made her focus enough to catch hold of the minds of some pawns. She turned them on each other and flew away on faulty wings.

It was not long before she began to gag on the blood in her mouth. Still causing mental chaos below her, she searched frantically for a spot to land. A flash of gold caught her eye and she dived after it. A small flag of Prospit was being waved by a tall Dersite man standing on the balcony of his apartment, and he skipped backward while waving her on. She hit the ground and coughed out the blood that had started to congeal in her mouth. The Dersite held up his hands, palms outward, and showed her the Prospit flag.

“I want to help you,” he said quietly. He smiled at her. “Do you know who I am, miss?”

She stared at him warily.

His smile did not weaken in the least. “You never _did_ hear my voice, so it’s understandable. I’m the Seditious Speaker. I was your exile back during your session.”

Devaki blinked and shook her head. When the Speaker reached out to her, she tried to snarl at him. Her blood caught in her throat and made her gag, and he put his hand on her shoulder while she coughed hard.

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said. “All you have to know is that I remember you and your companions, and I want to help. Do you know if your Space player is alive?”

She shook her head again.

“I know you can find people with your mind,” the Speaker murmured. “If she is, take control of her and escape from here. Find the players of this session and tell them what’s going on.” He chuckled softly. “And could you do me a favor?”

She stared at him with her eye narrowed. Slowly, she nodded once.

“Once you’re safe, could you try to get me away from here? I’d feel safer off of Derse at the moment.”

Devaki nodded again.

He squeezed her shoulder and said, “Thank you. Now get away while they’re still rioting.”

She closed her eye and reached out with her mind.

\-----  
—frame focus: NOW—  
\-----

Devaki stopped speaking and looked at Hugh and Vita. Though she was still paralyzed, Vita’s gaze was furious, accusatory, and twisted with sadness all at once. Hugh had gone the sickly yellow-white shade of an unbleached bone. Devaki then turned to Azriel. He stood with his arms crossed and a hand over his mouth. His expression was not a sickened one; he stared at the ground with thought furrowing his brow.

“So,” Devaki said haltingly, “I did what the Seditious Speaker told me to and found out where Hugh and Vita were, and then I made Galina send me there. Then we came here.” She faltered, looking to the ground. When she looked up again, she faced Azriel with pleading in her eyes. “What happened to Amie?”

“Is the Seditious Speaker still alive?” Azriel asked.

Devaki stared. After a moment, she closed her eyes. Eventually, she said, “Yeah.”

“Show Galina where he is,” Azriel said, voice clipped. “Galina, you bring him here to me.”

Galina and Devaki looked at each other, but did not question him. Within seconds, Galina closed her eyes in concentration. A loud pop sounded, and the tall Dersite man stood before Azriel. He barely had time to say “oh” before Azriel had put a gun to his head.

“You’re called the Seditious Speaker?” Azriel asked, hard and low.

The Speaker put up his hands. “I am.”

“What was your title before that?”

“I was called the Stalwart Steward.”

“Stalwart to Seditious, huh?” He pressed the gun harder against the Speaker’s brow. “You think I’m going to let you anywhere near my subjects with a name change like that? Did it change when you told the Queen secrets about us trolls?”

“I never spoke a word about you,” the Speaker replied, meeting Azriel’s gaze steadily. “I was the Rogue’s exile back in your session. I don’t know how I came to be in this new game, but I remain her exile, and I remain a steward of the Princess of Derse. My title changed when the Black Queen chose to break my princess’s spirit.”

Azriel scowled, grabbed the front of the Speaker’s tunic, and yanked him off his feet. He forced the carapace to his knees and pressed the barrel of the handgun to his forehead hard enough to make the metal squeal against his shell.

“Tell me what she did to Amie,” Azriel snarled. “Tell me or I’ll—”

“Hold, Prince.”

Everything and everyone went silent. Many Prospitans had gathered around them, but all their murmuring ceased upon hearing the voice. They opened a path to the humans and trolls, bowing as they stepped back. The White Queen strode to stand before them. She turned her black eyes to Azriel and lifted her hand.

“Release him,” she said.

A growl rumbled up from deep within Azriel’s chest. “Are you trying to give the emperor orders?”

“I _am_ giving you an order, Azriel Makram,” she replied. “Release him. Do it, and I will give you my counsel.”

“What would an emperor want with a queen’s counsel?” Azriel snapped.

She tilted her head slightly: a quirk of a brow her shell did not have. She smiled, not unkindly, and said, “When a ruler has suffered as great a loss as you, one would assume he would welcome good-natured advice.” She nodded to the Speaker. “He did you a great service by guiding the Rogue. You should be thanking him. Now release him, and I am sure he will tell you everything he knows.” She turned slightly toward the palace. “Summon the rest of your people, Prince. I would feel safer with our remaining players in a place I can see them. And I would prefer to explain what’s happened to the Seer only once.”

For a moment, Azriel’s finger tightened on the trigger. Galina stepped in close to him and put a hand on his back. He went still, and when she reached up to hold one of his horns, he released the trigger. He let go of the gun and lowered his arm. With a deep breath, he pulled the Speaker up from his knees. The Speaker straightened his tunic as he moved away, but he nodded to Azriel with no anger in his gaze.

“Devaki,” Azriel said. “Who can you still find?”

She looked at the ground, eyes half-closed. She murmured, “Mahima. Liam. Kijani. Vilmos.” She hesitated before saying, “I can’t find Amie.”

“Don’t worry about her.”

Devaki lifted her head, eyes wide. “But—”

“Show Galina and Vita,” he said. “You two bring them here. Keep them all away from Devaki.”

Galina and Vita exchanged a glance. Devaki took to her feet; Vita did the same. They moved away from each other and from the group of heads. Devaki put a hand to her forehead as Vita and Galina closed their eyes. Silence reigned for a few long moments before four pops rang out in quick succession. Kijani and Vilmos appeared on either side of Galina, and Mahima appeared on Vita’s right. Liam arrived last of all, standing before Vita but facing Devaki. He pitched forward, teleported in the midst of an attack as he was, and fell to the ground. Groaning, he pushed himself to his hands and knees.

“Jesus _shit_ , Vita,” he grumbled. He stood slowly, legs shaking, and looked about. “At least—at least message me before you do that. I feel like I’m gonna barf again.” He squinted against the brightness of the golden world around him, stopping dead at the sight of indigo smeared on the bricks at his feet. The deep dark marks of exhaustion around his eyes nearly matched the shade of the smear, and Liam stared at it with confusion contorting his face.

“Liam,” Hugh said gently. “I need you to listen to me before you do anything.”

He looked up to follow Hugh’s voice, but his head rolled on his shoulders. Liam’s eyes fell not on Hugh, but on Devaki. He stared at her, eyes growing wide and mouth falling open. She stared back, letting her hand come away from her face. As her hand dropped, Mahima, Kijani, and Vilmos all shuddered. They shifted about, coming out of a forced stillness, and they each turned to look at Devaki.

“Rapoto,” Vilmos purred, scowling darkly.

Devaki did not reply. Her gaze remained fixed on Liam.

“Liam,” Hugh said again. “Liam, listen.”

“Where the fuck is Amie?” Liam demanded.

“Vita?” Kijani said. “Babe, what the _fuck_? Why are you here with Rapoto?”

“I’m not here because I want to be,” Vita snapped. “Just don’t—I don’t fucking know, don’t blow her head up or anything.”

“That goes for you, too, Vilmos,” Azriel said.

“Why the fuck _shouldn’t_ I bash her thinkpan out?” Vilmos growled.

“You’re in the presence of _two_ royals, for one,” Azriel shot back. He pointed to the group of heads on the ground and said, “And because I don’t want you to try to add to the dead, for another.”

Upon seeing the heads, the trolls all reacted by going ramrod straight and completely still. Liam gaped at his own head, the blood draining from his face. He took one step back, and then another. The third step found his knees giving way and he hit the ground hard. He struggled to swallow, face twisting as he forced vomit back down his throat.

“This is my dreamself,” he said, voice trembling. “If _my_ dreamself is—” He turned to Hugh, eyes massive with panic. “What happened to Amie?”

“If you all follow me, I will explain,” the White Queen said.

Kijani and Vilmos both opened their mouths to argue, but Devaki turned her gaze upon them and took away their voices. They showed her their fangs; stern looks from Vita and Mahima made them settle. Liam pushed himself to his feet, staring at his head all the while. When he had locked his knees against the shaking of his legs, he looked to the Queen.

“You—you know what happened to Amie?” he asked.

She gestured to the Seditious Speaker. “He knows some of the details about her situation, but between the two of us, we can explain what’s happened to the Seer and this session at large.” She turned toward the palace and gestured for them to follow. “Come with me.”

\-------  
DIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm...sorry for the nearly five month hiatus on this.


	15. Ascension (2/3)

Your name is SITARA JALENA. You are 8 AND ½ SOLAR SWEEPS OLD and a DERSE DREAMER.

Your ancestor was the BETRAYER DEADEYES, who was murdered by the ASSASSIN LOSTEDGE under orders from the EMPEROR ANATHEMATIC.

You’re aware of the IRONY inherent in being in such CLOSE CAHOOTS with AZRIEL and DEVAKI. But HE made a BLOOD PACT with you--the ONLY pact he’s EVER made. YOU programmed SGRUB for him; HE kept you together with your MOIRAIL. You HAD to trust him, because you LOVE Devaki so much you WEPT over the order from the ANATHEMA saying she had to JOIN THE FLEET IMMEDIATELY. You worked HARDER than you EVER had before, sitting at computers SO LONG Devaki had to pull you away so your EYES wouldn’t ROT.

You got everyone IN. You beat the OLD emperor by ESCAPING HIM and paved the way for the NEW emperor.

But NOW you’re sitting in Devaki’s lap in the PALACE on the HUMANS’ PROSPIT, listening to the WHITE QUEEN explain how everything went WRONG. It’s taking ALL your concentration to keep Devaki from LOSING IT about AMIE. You’ve only felt her THIS UPSET once before, back when she got the ORDER about leaving you behind.

You HAVE to keep her CALM. The LAST thing anyone needs right now is the GRAND HIGHBLOOD ON A RAMPAGE.

\-------  
\--rewind reset: 10 minutes ago--  
\-------

The golden hall of Prospit was vast, more than large enough to hold their group. The White Queen sat upon her throne, imperious but for the way she sat forward a little. At her side was the Seditious Speaker; Azriel was next closest, standing atop the steps between the throne and the hall. Though the others stood, Devaki had been ordered by the Queen to sit on the floor with Sitara in her lap to remain calm.

“So explain what’s happened to our Seer sister,” Azriel said. Belatedly, he added, “Your...majesty.”

The Queen waved the formality away before gesturing to the Speaker. He cleared his throat as he stepped forward. “What’s happened is that the Seer has succumbed to the Black Queen’s torture.”

Instantly, a rumbling snarl began to pour out from between Devaki’s fangs. Sitara reached up to pat her cheek gently with one hand while holding her crooked horn with the other. The snarling died, but there was violent fury in the gaze she aimed at the Speaker.

He continued despite his suddenly trembling knees. “The--the method of torture isn’t physical in nature. It’s primarily mental, and with the added weight of the Elder Gods.”

“Hang on,” said Vita. “I keep hearing about these gods. What are they? Why would they attack Amie?”

“The Gods are opposed to the completion of creation,” Mahima said. “They want players to get fairly far along in their games before sabotaging them internally. Then they eat the leftovers.”

“‘Internally’?” Liam asked. “So they try to get us to turn traitor?”

“Essentially.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked at all the trolls slowly. “Who was your traitor?” Vilmos and Kijani pointed in unison to where Devaki and Sitara sat, and he snorted a laugh. “Wow, what a fuckin’ surprise. The crazy one was the traitor.”

“They were pointing at _me_ , genius,” Sitara said sharply.

“ _You_?” Hugh asked. “Why you?”

She shrugged, but there was nothing casual in the gesture. “Our ancestors have a common history, and my ancestor betrayed--”

“The cause of the lowbloods,” Vilmos snarled to interrupt.

“She betrayed the Anathema,” she shot back. “Why else would her moirail have been forced to kill her?”

“You still think Lostedge was ever moirails with a lowblood like Deadeyes?” Vilmos snapped, taking a step forward. “You’re insane _and_ dumb as fuck.” He would’ve continued had he not seen the way Devaki’s hand was closed in a fist, blade extended from her gauntlet.

“As you can see,” the Seditious Speaker said, “the Gods target people who would most readily sow discord in their team.” He smiled gently at Sitara. “But the young woman here had enough support around her to not give into the singing.”

Anger welled up in Liam’s chest then, making his throat grow tight. “You fuckin’ sayin’ we didn’t support Amie enough?”

“Sadly, yes.”

Liam summoned his kusarigama, but Vita backhanded his shoulder. As though the blow transferred over his anger, she turned to glare at Kijani. “I know why _I_ didn’t have the time to support her.”

He held up his hands in an attempt to placate her. “Babe, you know I wasn’t _tryin’_ to keep you from your diamonds girl. I’m sorry as shit this happened, you _know_ that--I tried to get her back for you!”

“It does not change the fact that the Bard is correct,” the Queen said. “The presence of foreign players proved to be the opportunity the Gods needed to turn the Seer to their cause. Now they have all the seeds for discord they could ever want.”

“So...that’s it?” Vita asked, all the anger draining from her. “We lost Amie.”

“There’s _one_ way to reverse damage to a person like that,” Azriel said. “We make her go god tier.”

The Queen nodded. “Becoming a god would both negate the effects of the Gods’ control over her and prevent future possessions. The only trouble,” she said, leaning forward, “is finding her quest bed.”

“It’s not that hard,” Azriel replied. “The beds are always big deals, so we can find it easy.”

“Oh?” She turned to Devaki. “Rogue, you have surveyed most of the Seer’s planet, have you not?”

Devaki nodded.

“Have you found a quest bed either in the uncorrupted lands or in the corruption that blends your planet with hers?”

Hesitating, she shook her head.

“And you three,” she said to the humans. “Have any of you found _your_ quest beds?”

Silence.

“On top of that, you don’t actually know where the Seer’s waking body is.” She sighed and put a hand to her head. “Prince, this is why you and your people worry me. You claim you have a plan and it all is very simple, but you fail to factor in the complexities, like quest beds you can’t find.”

Azriel opened his mouth, but Sitara beat him to speaking by saying, “Then we’ll just make them where we want to be.”

The Queen tilted her head slightly. “Explain.”

“Think about it,” Sitara replied. “We have space-time players strong enough to pull people across universes. Why can’t we just have them pull the beds across time and space?”

“How do you intend to find these beds?”

She shrugged, far more easily than before. “I programmed Sgrub. I’ll program something to find them.”

Azriel chuckled. “Worried now, your highness?”

She replied with a faint tip of her head in deference. “You’ve addressed some of my fears, at least. What will you be doing while she works on her program?”

He went quiet to think.

Hugh took the opportunity to speak up. “Shouldn’t we keep trying to level up? You have to be at your highest level before you hit god tier, right?”

“I’m pretty sure your Bard sister got all of her levels by throwing the frog egg into the volcano,” Azriel replied. “And I’m going to be surprised _and_ pissed off if you haven’t gotten your levels by helping me and her with time tricks.” He looked to the other trolls. “And you’re all really close.”

“What, I don’t fucking count?” Liam demanded.

“Your dreamself is dead, brother, so yeah, you don’t count.”

“Then let me do something that’s not useless! Let me go up to Derse and get Amie the fuck back!”

“No chance in hell,” Hugh snapped. “We let you go, she’ll just kill you again.”

“How do you even know that it was her?” Liam returned. “You’re gonna trust some whacked-out psycho bitch who tried to kill me before?”

“I never tried to kill you,” Devaki said.

“What do you call leaving me to be devoured by underlings, then?”

“Getting you out of my way when I was trying Amie safe.”

“You fucking _liar_! Mahima said you’re going to kill Amie! I’m _never_ trusting your crazy ass!”

Devaki turned to stare at Mahima. “How do you know about that?”

Liam’s face turned red with rage. “You’re _planning_ it?”

Devaki opened her mouth, but a sound cut her off: a loud clap of Azriel’s hands. She shot to her feet, holding Sitara in her arms a moment before setting her down. They all looked to Azriel, and all were dumbfounded by the darkly smug expression on his face. He spread his hands wide to them.

“That’s the answer,” he said.

Galina sighed. “Az, only one person here is a mind-reading psychic, and she can’t get in your head.”

He began to walk down the stairs, smirking massively. “Tell me exactly what you saw, Mahima.”

She shrugged once to hide her hesitation. “I don’t really know. The viewport for her is weird--it flickers all the time. It goes dark.”

Azriel’s smirk managed to grow wider. “It’s her Void powers going off unconsciously. It must be happening because Devaki can’t control her anymore. But you definitely saw Devaki kill her?”

“I watched her slit her throat.”

“Did you see where they were?”

“I couldn’t get any details aside from the whole murder thing.”

Azriel laughed, waving his hand to brush aside the harshness of her voice. He looked at the others, surprised at the shock, confusion, and fury on the faces that looked back at him. “Don’t you understand? My serpent sister is in love with the Seer! There’s no way she’d kill her if it didn’t help her!”

“You’re talking about letting a known lunatic _murder_ my best friend,” Vita grumbled. “I don’t see how that’s a good thing.”

“Death is just a construct in the game,” Sitara said, speaking up. “If you use it correctly, you can become a god.”

“I’m not going to trust that!” Vita said in return. “There’s only one God! And like I’m going to trust my eternal soul to snake-tongued devil liars like all of you monsters!”

The grin on Azriel’s face faded slowly, reversing entirely into a frown. “Then how do you explain my mastery over time, space sister? I died to get this power, just like my serpent sister died to get hers. Time is my toy, human, and Devaki can control the minds of everyone here up until me and the White Queen. She can control the minds of _armies_. You’re going to refuse to get the power to move entire worlds because of some belief you’ve got in some other paltry little god from your myths?”

“I—”

“You’re going to refuse power that could help save your best friend’s life? Her soul?”

Her voice grew weaker; she repeated, “I...”

Before Azriel could argue further, Hugh stepped forward. He looked to Sitara. “You're sure you can find our quest beds?”

“Give me half an hour and you'll have your bed,” she said

He nodded slowly, swallowed, and looked at Devaki. “When she does, you come with me to it...and you kill me.”

“No fuckin’ way!” was Liam's response. “Man, there's no fuckin' way I'm letting this bitch kill you!”

“Devaki, do what my time brother tells you,” Azriel said. “He's got a good plan.”

“I just said _no_!” Liam shouted, lifting his kusarigama. “No one else dies on my watch!”

Devaki curled her hands slowly into fists, extending the blades on her gauntlets. Before Sitara could reach out to stop them, Liam launched himself at Devaki, slashing for her neck. She shot straight up into the air, kicking down on his head to knock him, face-first, into the ground. At the apex of her leap, Vilmos lashed out with his whip and caught her around the neck. As he yanked her down, Meztli darted in to intercept Mahima, who hurried forward to kick at Devaki's ribs. Liam rejoined the fray, leaping in a full-body flying tackle to slam into Devaki while she was still in the air. He stabbed deep into her stomach, and she spat indigo blood in his face.

“Holy shit, _stop_!” Hugh yelled. “What the fuck is wrong with all of you?” Desperately, he looked at Azriel. Azriel only shrugged, his smirk still in place though slightly smaller. Hugh turned back to the pile of trolls and one human, watching impotently as they squabbled. An idea came to him abruptly, and he cupped his hands around his mouth to shout, “Devaki! Make everyone stop!”

She went still, and so did the others. Liam pulled his blade from her stomach and got off of her; Vilmos unwound his whip from her throat; and Meztli and Mahima parted. She took to her feet, god tier powers working to knit up the wound in her stomach.

Hugh stared at them, brows raised. “I can't believe that _worked_.”

“I told her to listen to you, brother,” Azriel said, amused. “She listens to me, so she'll listen to you.”

“Okay,” Hugh said quietly. He looked to Devaki, who regarded him with sharp attention. “Can you make my friends stay really still and completely quiet?”

She nodded, and Liam's protesting cry was cut off mid-sound.

Hugh took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Liam and Vita. “I knew that this was their plan. I've known ever since I came back from Amie's planet four or five hours ago.” Liam's look of rage was apoplectic, crimson boiling up in his face. Hugh could see him straining against his own muscles, but the Mindgrip was too strong. “I didn't tell you guys because I knew you'd act like this.

“Don't you get it?” he asked. “This is the only way to keep ourselves safe. If we're gods, then nothing can touch us! We'll finally be the heroes we're supposed to be!” He opened his mouth again to keep going, but there was nothing save fury in the faces of his friends. He faltered, and then he sighed. From out of his sylladex he pulled a thin blue book, and briefly Liam and Vita could see its title, _The Legend of Time's Heir_.

Hugh began to read from it. “'The blue hound heralds the arrival of Time's Heir. The Heir leads, and he inherits. He inherits the ills of Skaia, and must seek transcendent aid. He himself must ascend, and at whatever cost of fear or pain there is. Even as those around him multiply and fall, he must not falter. His ascension has been foretold.'”

“Do you get it now, guys?” he asked, voice quiet. “There are books like this for all of us on my planet. This is what Skaia designed for us. If I don't die—if we don't die—then we don't win.” He looked at them pleadingly, but there remained only anger in their expressions. Again, he sighed. He looked at Devaki. “Make them go to sleep. For at least a few hours.”

Devaki nodded, and Liam and Vita's eyes rolled back in their heads. They collapsed to the ground, and for a long time there was silence.

“A cruel act, Heir,” murmured the White Queen.

“You think I don't fucking _know_ that?” Hugh snapped, voice rising as he spoke. “You think I'm doing this for kicks? These are my only friends in the _universe_ now, and this Goddamn game is making me do this to them! You think I _like_ being cruel?”

“Better not to think about it, brother,” said Azriel.

“You _would_ say that, you shit,” Vilmos grumbled.

“Christ, whatever,” Hugh said. “Sitara, when do you think you'll be able to find my quest bed?”

“Like I said, within thirty minutes,” she replied. “Based on what Az said, most of the corruption combining your planet with his is under the surface. Your quest bed probably hasn't gone too far from where it originally was.”

“Good. Galina, send me and Devaki down to my planet. We'll search for it, too.”

“And what should _we_ do, leader boy?” asked Kijani.

“Stay away from my friends, if you know what's good for you.”

—————

Amie opened her eyes and discovered a great, monstrous beast before her. She stared up at it and didn't know why she wasn't screaming. Perhaps it was the nearly human face atop a bare, blue female torso that kept her calm enough to simply stand there, trembling. Her breath came in wavering clouds from her mouth, and the sweat that slowly rolled down her forehead prickled as it froze. The creature balanced on a vast white, serpentine body, and it moved to coil around Amie lazily.

_Seer._

She started, feeling her breathing start to wind out of control.

_Enough. I have cause to speak with you._

Amie tried to back away, shaking her head, but soon ran into the creature's body. Knees failing, she slid down the scaly form until she was sitting on the frigid ground. She shook both with terror and cold, and she whimpered when the creature loomed near.

_I said, “enough.” We must speak, Seer. This is your fate._

“M-my fate?” Amie asked, teeth chattering.

_Yes. Your fate is tied to mine. To all of ours._

“Who is 'us'?”

_I am Cetus. My brethren are the other denizens._

She felt her heart beat painfully. “D-denizens? The giant monsters we're supposed to kill?” She gasped when the creature's tail slithered beneath her and lifted her up and onto one of the white coils.

_If that is your decision._

“I have a choice?” Cetus leaned close to her, its blank, solid blue eyes making Amie's own widen.

_Because I now offer you **the** choice._

“What choice?”

_The choice to either trust or destroy._

Utterly freezing despite her warm clothes, Amie wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed at her arms. Teeth chattering worse than ever, she asked, “Where are we?

_Far beneath the surface of the Land of Snow and Crystal. This is my home. I summoned you here to offer you the choice._

“How did you do that? The last thing I knew I was asleep from Devaki's Mindgrip and then—” She hesitated. “Then I don't remember.”

_That's **all** you remember?_

“I...no.” She shook her head, shuddering deeply. “I remember the singing. Oh God, I remember it.”

_What was the song, Seer?_

Amie shook her head again, closing her eyes tight.

_The Gods may not enter here. They have neither the reach nor the strength. You may speak of them and be safe._

“They—they told me what I did. What they made me do up on Derse.” Her breathing hitched, and she began to cry. “I killed my friend.” She tried to stop crying, but sobbed for her effort and was forced to bury her face in her hands to hide from Cetus' impassive, unblinking stare.

_The choice, Seer._

“I don't care about any fucking _choice_!” Amie cried, voice muffled in her fingers. “I just want to go home!”

_You have no home to return to. Not a safe one. Not until you make the choice._

She lifted her head, showing bright red streaks from where the tears had frosted over. “What, so I have to make a deal with the devil with you and the other denizens, is that it?”

_I ask you again to choose between trusting and destroying._

“What's the difference? Who am I trusting?”

_Others._

Amie grimaced. “Can we please not do the whole cryptic bullshit thing right now? Just—who am I trusting?”

_Myself. My brethren. The foreign players. Your fellows._

“My 'fellows'? You mean my friends? And the trolls? Why wouldn't I trust them?”

_Trusting others will result in your death._

“I know that.”

The denizen's psychic voice was silent for a time. It swayed like a cobra, regarding Amie from different angles.

_You know, Seer?_

“Devaki already told me that she's going to kill me. On my quest bed, though. She promised to make it not hurt.”

_I hadn't expected the foreign players to be so forthright. My counterpart from their game was murdered by the Rogue._

“By Devaki?”

_Yes. She was offered the choice of negotiation or domination, and chose the latter._

“So we don't all get the same options?”

_Of course not. How could it be a choice if everyone was given the same two options._

“So...what choice does Hugh have?”

_The Heir's choice is to rule or to follow. He has already made his choice._

“And?” Amie asked, leaning back out of nerves while Cetus leaned closer.

_He follows, acting in a way that makes him out to be the leader of this session's players._

“How is he not a leader, then?”

_He follows another leader, the selfsame one who has ordered death many times over._

Amie's heart sank. “Azriel.”

_You do not trust him, Seer?_

“He killed Devaki. Or as good as killed her, and in a horrible way.” She scowled. “But Devaki trusts him.”

_And you trust her, the one who intends to kill you?_

“I don't have any other choice!” She gasped as Cetus rose into the air, body extending, to loom over her even more.

_You forget your other option, Seer! You have the choice to either trust or to destroy. Now is your time to scry the future and make your choice._

“ _Scry_?” Amie asked, voice breaking. “I can't read the future—I don't know how!”

_Surely you gained enough strength during your time under the Rogue's control to take even a small glimpse into the future. It is imperative that you look into the future of failure to see what your choice should be._

She stared at Cetus, reminded of her original horror of the creature. The thought of closing her eyes around it, with its open mouth of glittering ruby-red fangs, made her want to cry again. Her shaking renewed, she shut her eyes and thought hard on failure. Cetus waited patiently, swaying back and forth. Many minutes later, Amie opened her eyes.

“I know what choice to make,” she said quietly.

—————

“Babe! Babe, wake up!”

Vita jerked back into consciousness, slapping the clawed hand pulling at her ear. She rolled over from her back, pushing herself upright with a groan. Kijani was crouched before her, and he gave her a little wave and a grin when she was on her knees.

“'Sup, babe? You wanna go fuck shit up with me and my main couple?”

She looked up. Mahima and Vilmos were standing by, and Liam was draped, still unconscious, over Mahima's shoulder. She looked about. They were down an alleyway on Prospit, far from the castle.

“How the hell did you get us here?” she asked.

“You're talkin' to the Mage of the motherfuckin' Void! It was a wriggler's game to hide us in the dark and get away from those tight-asses!” He stood up just enough to still offer Vita his hand. “So what do you say, Vita my girl? Wanna fuck shit up?”

Smiling grimly, she took his hand. “More than anything.”

———  
DIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And more apologies for the extensive wait on this chapter as well...here's to 2013 and a resolution to finish this story!


	16. Ascension (3/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the humans and trolls coalesce into separate groups; the Seer contacts the Rogue; much hunting is done; and death finally occurs.

They stood around the table in Vita’s dining room, three trolls on one side and two humans on the other.

“First order of business,” said Kijani, “is what we do to fuck shit up. I say we go smash Derse to find Vita’s diamonds girl.”

Liam, shaking slightly, smirked. “Never thought I’d say this, but I agree with the asshole.”

With a chuckle, Kijani lifted a hand and flicked his middle finger against his thumb. A flash of purple energy appeared in front of Liam’s face and struck him on the forehead. Liam swore loudly; Vita came around the table to punch Kijani hard on the shoulder. Laughing outright, Kijani caught her by the hand, spun her on her toes, and dipped her as though they were dancing.

Vita teleported out of his grasp and regarded him with a raised brow and a frown. “Apologize.”

He shrugged. “Fine.” He turned to Liam and, without a note of contrition in his voice, said, “Sorry, bro.”

“Whatever,” Liam replied. “I’m still voting for fucking up Derse.”

“I vote against it,” Mahima said. “You’re too tired.”

“Go to hell.”

“Then why are you shaking?” she asked snidely. “Is it because you haven’t slept and have been strifing for hours on end? I think it may be.”

“I said ‘go to hell.’ We have to find Amie.”

“None of us are psychics,” she began.

Kijani cut her off. “But we got a hero of Void.” He looked at Vita, begging in his eyes. “Lemme up there. I’ll find her in the black and bring her back.”

Mahima growled out a sigh. “We _know_ where she is on Derse. We need to find her waking body and kill her on her—”

“The _fuck_ did you just say?” Liam snapped.

“Kill her on her—”

“Get out!” he screamed. “ _Now_!” When she rounded the table and advanced on him, he summoned his kusarigama and brandished it as menacingly as his trembling arms would allow. “Don’t you _dare_ pull that hold-me-over-your-head shtick!”

Scowling now, Vita went to him and punched his shoulder just as hard as she had Kijani’s. She turned back to Mahima and asked, “So you’re on board with the plan to kill my best friend?”

“Much as I hate to admit it, they’re right. The only way to get her back is the kill either her waking body or her dreamself. Better to go the god tier route.”

“You’re talkin’ about killing the girl I _love_ ,” Liam said.

“And so does Devaki, evidently.”

“Rapoto doesn’t _love_ anything,” said Vilmos.

“Why are you making me defend my kismesis?” Mahima demanded. “You know she loves Jalena. Your hand is testament to that. In any case, why are we arguing this point? The Seer has to die if we want to save her, and I vote we do it before Devaki has a chance.”

“Why?” Liam asked, sneering. “So you can hold it over the psycho?”

She smirked. “Now you’re catching on.”

“No, fuck you. If anyone’s gonna save her, it’s me.”

“So _you’ll_ kill her?” Vilmos asked.

“If that’s what it takes,” Liam said, but Vita hit him again.

“ _I_ vote you take a time-out,” she told him. “You’re not thinking about what you’re saying anymore.”

“Vita, listen,” Kijani said, voice low and soft. “I’m not the guy to go to when it comes to not killing shit when you’ve got a great reason to, but you gotta understand. This is comin’ from a guy who’s head over heels for ya—your diamonds girl’s gotta die if you want to save her. And if that’s too hard for you to do, then I’ll get my hands bloody for you.”

“Is that supposed to be a romantic gesture?” she asked.

“Little bit, yeah.”

Vita stared at him a long time before looking to Vilmos. “What’s your opinion on this?”

“I don’t care about you humans,” he replied. “I want Rapoto failing and dead.”

“Even if it means _we_ fail and everyone dies?”

He shrugged.

Disgusted, she said, “You don’t get a vote.”

He shrugged again.

“So…are we really doing this?” Vita asked, looking at all of them. “We’re really going to kill her?”

“Majority rules,” said Mahima, “or at least it should.”

“Can you promise that she’ll come out okay?”

“If she’s on her quest bed,” Kijani said. “Ain’t nothing can stop her from ascending if she dies there.”

“My boondollars are on a bet that Derse knows what we’re going to try,” Mahima said. “They’ll want her dead with no one kissing her to send her consciousness to her dreamself.”

Vita laughed bitterly. “So literally everyone wants Amie dead.”

“Pretty much,” Vilmos said.

“We should try to stop Derse and keep her from gettin’ killed off her bed,” Kijani said. “At least them. Maybe we should split up into teams? I’ll go with Vita.”

“Why?” Vita asked in a sigh.

“ _I_ got the best chance of finding her in the Void, _you_ can teleport her to her quest bed, and then _I_ can kill her so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“You’re just _full_ of romantic gestures today, aren’t you.”

He bowed to her with a smile.

“There’s a hole in that plan,” Mahima remarked, brow raised.

“What?” Kijani asked.

“We don’t know where her quest bed is. I get what the White Queen was saying about us not being very good at planning things?”

Vita thought a moment before summoning her com-set. “What’s Azriel’s handle?”

“AvantGuide,” Mahima said. “What’re you—”

Vita hushed her sharply, added Azriel’s handle, and opened a window to him.

—timelessGuardian [TG] began pestering avantGuide [AG]—

TG: hey, Azriel?  
TG: are you there?  
AG: what do you want sister  
TG: is Sitara working on finding Amie’s quest bed?  
AG: shes working on my time brothers bed  
AG: why  
TG: we were thinking we should actually DO something.  
TG: since Derse probably knows what we’re going to try.  
TG: so could she work on finding Amie’s bed, too?  
AG: are you saying youll kill her  
TG: I  
TG: …  
TG: no.  
TG: bAbE wHaT tHe HeLl I sAiD iD dO iT fOr YoU!  
TG: Kijani, shut up!  
AG: i knew you wouldnt  
AG: im not going to tell you  
TG: mAn WhAt ThE fUcK jUsT tElL uS!  
AG: and how were you going to kill her  
AG: crushing her skull with your sword  
AG: or was your brother going to cut her throat  
AG: you dont have it in you  
AG: my serpent sister does  
AG: stay out of the way  
TG: but  
TG: she’s my friend.  
TG: I can’t kill her.  
AG: which is why i told you to stay out of the way  
AG: well save her  
AG: so you can keep being her weak willed friend without get your hands dirty  
TG: I’m not weak!  
TG: I don’t want my friend to die!  
AG: too bad  
AG: either she dies once or we all die permanently  
AG: her fate is tangled with all of ours now  
AG: happens with seers  
AG: so for the last time  
AG: stay out of the way

—avantGuide [AG] ceased trolling tirelessGuardian [TG]—

Vita dismissed her com-set and stood there, staring at the floor. Abruptly, she turned on her heels and left the room and the house entirely. When she was some distance from the house, she looked into the sky and took a deep breath. Dragging out the words until she was out of breath, she screamed, “ _Fuck you_!”

For a while, she was left alone. Soon enough, though, she heard approaching footsteps. She did not look away from the sky, and continued to stare even when a clawed hand settled on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Kijani said with that same softness she never expected from him. “If it makes you feel better, I hate him, too.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“You want to talk with your girl, I know. But she ain’t around and I got a good pair of ears when I wanna listen, and listening’s high on my list of things I wanna do to you, babe.”

She looked at him with her brows low and her eyes wide. “Do you even think about what you’re saying before you say it?”

“I mean what I say. What, you never had anyone lay into you with sweet nothings back on planet human?”

“Not this… _intensely_ , no.”

“That’s a shame. You’re fuckin’ _hot_.”

“Yes, so you’ve said.”

He splayed his hands to the side. “What, you don’t believe me? What’s a guy gotta do to make his favorite girl up and pay attention to him?”

“Find a way out of this that doesn’t end in Amie dying.”

He sighed, dropping his hands. He then lifted his arms and came toward her, catching her with his psionics to keep her from absconding. Wrapping his arms around her, he let go of his psionics and held on through her struggling.

“I know we haven’t known each other long and that I trolled you at the start,” Kijani said, “but you seriously gotta believe me. There’s _no_ way to save your girl except her dying. It’s the only way to come back from going grimdark like that. It ain’t something you just shrug off like a sickness.”

Vita stopped struggling. She mumbled, “Is this where I’m supposed to break down sobbing on your shoulder while we bond?”

“We both know you’re stronger than that.”

“Can I do it anyway?”

He put a hand on the back of her head and patted gently. “If that’s what you gotta do to get through this, go for it.”

She put her head on his shoulder and softly began to weep.

 

—rewind reset: 30 minutes ago—

 

—avantGuide [AG] began trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

AG: bad news tb  
AG: your teammates disappeared  
GA: What?  
GA: What the hell does that mean?  
AG: exactly what it sounds like  
AG: kijani took them into the void and your girl vita took them off prospit  
AG: all their screens are still dark  
AG: so we cant find them  
AG: im pretty sure they went to stop you and devaki from killing amie  
AG: watch out for them  
GA: You’re telling me to be on guard from my friends?  
AG: yeah i am  
AG: theyll fuck everything up if they stop you  
AG: dead bodies all through the timelines  
AG: it has to be my serpent sister who kills her  
AG: hang tight tb  
AG: sitaras going to find your bed  
AG: then well have two time gods  
AG: and well show derse who has the power  
GA: But what about Liam and Vita?  
AG: well find them later  
AG: for now focus on going god tier  
AG: ill contact you when sitara finds your bed

—avantGuide [AG] ceased trolling gregariousAmbassador [GA]—

Devaki looked at Hugh curiously when he simply stood there with his mouth slightly agape. She eventually asked, “What?”

“Azriel says to look out for my friends, and not in the good way,” he replied.

“I heard him say they’re going to get in the way.” She hesitated, and then asked, “You don’t want me to hurt them or kill them, right?”

“Right,” he said faintly.

When he did not move, she grew impatient. “We’re supposed to be finding your quest bed. I want to get it done before we have to go back to Sitara to calm me down.”

“I know, I _know_ ,” he snapped. “Forgive me if I’m not eager to get killed.”

Devaki scowled. “I know how to make it quick and painless. Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you fine,” he said. “I’m just not ready to die yet.”

“What, you think I was? I didn’t even have my moirail there to make it suck less.”

“And I won’t have anyone but you with me!”

“That’s why I’ll make it quick!”

They regarded each other severely. Hugh gave way first, and he said, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m scared and nervous, and my friends going missing right now really doesn’t help. It—it’s like if Sitara went missing.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she said softly. After a second, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s—fine. Let’s keep looking for my bed. Where was yours?”

“On the other side of my planet from the gates. Azriel’s was the same.”

“I guess that’s as good a place to start as any. Come on.” He started away, gesturing for her to follow. She did so implicitly, and for a solid twenty minutes they walked in silence. Hugh cleared his throat awkwardly.

“What?” Devaki asked.

“I was wondering something.”

“And?”

“Is what Azriel said true? About you loving Amie?”

“Yes,” she said, and did not elaborate.

“Not that she’s not lovable, but why?”

She stopped walking, looking at the ground to think. “Because she’s strong.”

“You think she is?”

“You _don’t_?”

“She has an anxiety disorder. It’s hard seeing her as more than a nervous wreck, sometimes.”

She gave him a sour look, sneering. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She _is_ , but you have to admit she gets scared easily.”

“That doesn’t matter. She asked me to control her body with the Mindgrip to make her strife better and gain levels faster.”

He boggled at her. “Are you serious? So that time we were all on the roof on Losac—she was fighting that way because of you?”

“And now she’s strong all on her own. She wants to _be_ stronger all the time, and I think that makes her strong by itself.”

“And…you’re physically attracted to her, too?”

“Fuck yes. She’s extremely pretty. Not like Mahima is.”

Hugh looked at her for a long time.

“ _What_?” Devaki asked.

“Why else do you love her?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“She’s my little sister. I’m worried about her getting involved romantically with _anyone_.”

“That’s stupid. She already told me she likes me back, so I don’t think you getting in her business is going to help her.”

His jaw dropped. “She _said_ that?”

She scowled, showing her fangs. “I’m not an unlovable monster, asshole.”

“No, it’s just—she _said that_? She doesn’t tell people she likes them! She never told Vita she had a crush on her, and it was obvious to everyone! Well, maybe not to Liam, but it was to me and Vita and she never said a word!”

“Well, she told _me_ , so there.”

Hugh opened his mouth to continue, but Devaki’s hand shot out to clamp down over it. She stared into the middle distance, eyes growing wide. A stunned smile took to her lips.

“Amie,” she whispered, and she summoned her com-set. “Amie? Amie, are you there? I can sense you again! Where are you?”

Faintly, Hugh heard Amie’s voice as she said, “ _I don’t have a lot of time. Put me back to sleep._ ”

“Why?”

“ _Because if I see where I’m going, my dreamself will know, too. You’ve got to keep my eyes closed._ ”

Devaki did not hesitate in nodding. “Where are you?”

“ _I can’t say over a chat client_.”

“Then show me in your mind. Your dreamself can’t read your thoughts.”

“ _Okay._ ”

Devaki closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she asked, “Why are you there?”

“ _I’ll explain later. Just put me back to sleep, and then get me to my quest bed._ ”

“Got it. I’ll find you soon.”

“ _Okay._ ”

Hugh squirmed out of Devaki’s grasp, cutting his cheeks for his efforts. He didn’t mind, because he was able to say, “Amie! Keep holding on!”

“ _I will,_ ” she said, and the voice chat ended.

“Take me with you,” said Hugh. “You _have_ to.”

She looked at him up and down. Soon enough, she said, “You’ll get in the way,” and she reached out her hand once again.

“For God’s sake, wait a minute!” he snarled, and the severity of the sound gave Devaki pause. “Tell me how the fuck I’d be in the way.”

“The fastest way to get her to her quest bed is going to be flying her there. I can’t carry you both.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

She looked him up and down again, a full head taller than her not counting her horns. “You’re too big.”

“Then why not have Galina or Vita just send us there?”

She opened her mouth, but faltered. “I…don’t know.”

“Didn’t she show you where her bed was?”

She was quiet, and her voice was faint when she admitted, “No.”

“Then what were you planning on doing?” he shouted. “Fly around and look for it blindly? Don’t you think that would be putting a target on your back for Derse to shoot at?”

Between grit fangs, she growled, “Stop yelling at me.”

He continued to shout. “ _Why_? Are you going to stab me if I don’t?” He heard the sound of metal sliding against metal and looked down to see she had closed her fists and extended her knives. Before she could think to move, he pulled back his fist and punched her, dead center, in the face. She was knocked clean off her feet and landed hard on her back. Her glasses hung off either ear, the bridge snapped neatly in half.

Devaki sat up slowly and looked at him in bafflement, her broken nose bleeding badly. “You _hit_ me.”

Hugh looked up from the indigo blood on his knuckles, his expression torn between dismay and frustration. He twisted it into the latter. “That seems to be the only way you’ll _listen_. We have to think about this.” He hesitated, but then summoned his com-set. “We need to tell Azriel so he can have Sitara find Amie’s quest bed.”

At a loss, Devaki nodded. She stood up and tossed the broken remains of her glasses away. Reaching into her sylladex, she waited until the bone snapped itself back into place before putting on a new pair.

“How many of those do you have?” Hugh asked, a coil of guilt in his stomach.

“A ton.” She shrugged, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. A look of concentration passed over her face; the stains vanished from the fabric. “I never counted. People hit me in the face a lot.”

“Sorry.”

She shrugged again. “Call Az. He’ll know what to do.”

He opened Pesterchum, but went still. “He’s offline.”

Devaki’s eyes went wide. “He’s _never_ offline.” She opened Trollian, mouth falling open when she found Hugh was right. “Az?”

“Can’t you sense him?”

She shook her head slowly. “I’ve never been able to touch his mind.”

He frowned and looked back at his contact list. The handle complaisantArchitect was alight and online, but his frown deepened. “Do you know who CA is? I never added them.”

“CA? That’s Sitara. She’s online?”

He nodded.

—gregariousAmbassador [GA] began pestering complaisantArchitect [CA]—

GA: Sitara?  
GA: Sitara, where’s Azriel?  
GA: We need to talk.  
CA: he’s 0n derse.  
GA: …  
GA: WHAT?!  
CA: h0ly cr4p why 4re y0u yelling  
GA: WHY IS HE ON DERSE?  
CA: hugh c4lm d0wn!  
GA: NO!  
GA: AND DON’T YOU DARE USE YOUR POWERS ON ME!  
GA: Hugh, if you don’t stop yelling at my moirail I really will stab you.  
CA: dev? wh4t’s g0ing 0n?  
GA: Okay. Okay.  
GA: I’m sorry I shouted.  
CA: th4t d0esn’t 4nswer my questi0n.  
GA: We just got contacted by Amie.  
GA: We needed to ask Azriel what to do next.  
GA: 1 f1nd her quest bed, duh.  
GA: What, you’re just making the decision without him?  
CA: y0u’re 4ct1ng l1ke he’d d0 d1fferent.  
GA: Can  
GA: Can Galina send me there, too?  
CA: sure, why n0t?  
CA: 4s l0ng 4s y0u d0n’t d0 4nyth1ng stupid, 4z w0n’t m1nd.  
CA: where d0es she need t0 send you tw0?  
GA: Devaki’ll show her.  
CA: ye4h th4t’s the f4ce she gets when dev uses the m1ndgr1p 0n her.  
CA: 4re y0u guys re4dy?  
GA: Hit us.

—gregariousAmbassador [GA] ceased pestering complaisantArchitect [CA]—

As always, Hugh closed his eyes at the first pop and opened them on the second. When he did, it was to find his breath hanging in clouds of steam before his mouth in the windless air of the Land of Snow and Crystals. It seemed closed than his last visit to Losac, the place where they stood. Hugh turned in time to see Devaki head through a stone doorway and down into the frozen ground. With little else to do, he followed her. Only when they had gone a great distance did he notice her tightly clenched fists and extended knives.

“What the hell, are there underlings down here?” he asked.

“There’s something worse,” she replied. “It’s Amie’s denizen.”

“Her denizen?”

She nodded. “I’m surprised it didn’t try to eat her.”

“But then why would she be with it?”

“Like I would know.” She rolled her shoulders, shaking them into looseness. “Guess I’ll have to kill another one.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, reaching past her wing to grip her shoulder and making her stop. “We need to think about this, too. Aren’t denizens endgame bosses?”

“I guess. Mine gave me a choice, and I chose to kill it.”

“But then maybe that’s _not_ what we’re supposed to do! What if Amie’s choice was to let it live and you killing it messes it up?”

She shrugged out of his grasp, but did not move forward. Quietly, she said, “There’s a lot I’d mess up for her.”

“I see that,” he said, and there was an oddly admiring tone in his voice. “But right now, put away your knives. We’ll see if we have to strife.”

She did as she was told, and they resumed their descent. Plinths of green fire hung on the walls, casting strange light on their skin. When Hugh glanced at Devaki, he was struck by the shimmering glow of the backs of her eyes reflecting the light. They found the end of the tunnel soon enough, and their pace grew slower at the sight of the dark blue ice that awaited them. They stopped some stairs before the doorway, but before Hugh could speak, a voice filled their heads.

_Enter._

They stared at each other.

_I said, “enter.”_

Very slowly, they did as they were told. Hugh’s jaw dropped at the giant creature before them, serpentine and solid white save its blue eyes and ruby-red fangs. Devaki began to growl low in her throat, but she went quiet when she saw something, and Hugh’s jaw dropped further when he saw what she was looking at. Amie, eyes closed, sat on one of the creature’s great coils. Hugh ran to her and threw his arms around her, lifting her off the denizen. After spinning her in a circle, he put her on her feet an held her at arms’ length.

“Thank God,” he said, and he hugged her again. He looked at Devaki. “Is she asleep right now?”

She nodded.

“Let her wake up!” he said in a laugh.

_No._

He started, looking up at the denizen. It leaned closed to him; he could feel its frigid breath on his face.

_The Seer must not wake. Not even here now._

“Why not?” he demanded.

_By making her choice, she has gained her last levels. She is ready to become a god, and her dreamself is closer to her than ever. You must keep her asleep to ensure that she does not give away her position._

“But—”

It stopped addressing him, instead turning to Devaki.

_Rogue._

Her growling resumed, shoulders going up and taut. She stared at the denizen, eyes wide and filled with rage.

_Calm yourself. You still have a ways to go._

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut your head off again.”

_Because the Seer chose to trust me. That should be good enough for you._

She opened her mouth to argue, but a glance at Amie’s face, still in her slumber, made her stop. Her growling tapered off and died completely. She spat, “ _Fine._ ”

_Good. I will show you where her quest bed is. It isn’t far from here._

Hugh winced as the knowledge of the location was inserted into his mind; Devaki shuddered from head to foot.

“Is that what it’s like when I put things into your head?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Her mouth pulled down with disgust. “Sorry.”

_Enough. You must be as quiet as shadows in this leg of your journey, lest the Seer’s dreamself find out where you’re going._

“So we get Galina to teleport us there,” said Hugh.

It shook its head.

_You must disappear entirely. None of your technology. No more psychic calls._

“Why not?” Devaki asked.

_You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? It’s harder to keep your control of her. The only reason you keep her asleep easily now is because the Gods may not enter here. Once you leave my cavern, the Gods will claw for her consciousness. It will be like **fighting** an army greater than any you’ve controlled before. Are you prepared for that?_

“We are,” Hugh said. He looked at Devaki, who nodded.

_If you die in this journey, it will be in heroic in the face of trying to save her. If you fail, it will cause the ruin of all. Do you understand?_

Devaki nodded again.

_Good. Then go._

She extended one of her knives. Before Hugh could react, she cut two strips of cloth from her cloak. Unequipping her gauntlets, she went to Amie and tied the cloth firmly over her eyes.

“Better safe than sorry,” she said, and she equipped her weapons again. She hesitantly took Amie by the hand, opening her com-set and shutting everything down. Hugh did the same and, after he had nodded to the denizen, they made their way out of the cavern. Once they were beneath the light of Skaia, however, Amie wrenched her hand from Devaki’s. She tackled Devaki to the ground and grabbed her by the throat. Gagging as she was choked, Devaki reached out with both hands and lay her palms flat on Amie’s temples. Amie released her immediately and collapsed on Devaki’s chest as if she were boneless.

“Holy hell, are you okay?” Hugh asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“What happened?”

“I didn’t know how hard to push the Mindgrip. Now I know what’s too much and too little.” She rolled them over and stood up, drawing Amie’s body up with her by keeping one hand on her head. For a long while she stood there immobile, simply staring at Amie’s face. “Walk behind us and hold her arms behind her back.”

“Okay.”

They went on in that way, Devaki with an arm around Amie’s shoulders to keep a hand on her head, as quickly as they could. Hugh held tight to Amie’s hands, both to keep them still and to reassure himself he was doing the right thing.

—————

Kijani sat in the middle of the living room, hovering a few feet off the floor and with his eyes closed. Vita stood close in front of him; Liam, Vilmos, and Mahima were scattered in a semi-circle behind him.

“Are you sure you can find Amie like this?” Vita asked.

“Hard to be sure about usin’ failure to track somebody,” he said. “But she’s turnin’ into such a big clusterfuck nexus of failure, it’s hard to not see her movin’.”

“You can see her?” Liam asked.

“Sorta. It’s mostly seein’ this huge blank space movin’. It’s like her Void powers are turned all the way up. Someone musta got to her already.”

“Like who?” Mahima asked.

“Probably Rapoto. It’s really weird—I’d think she’d have better control over Amie by now.”

“Who cares what she can do?” said Vita. “Can you or can you not tell me where to teleport us?”

“I ain’t got the psychic trackin’ Rapoto does,” he said. “I can give you the direction the blank space is going, but not put its actual location in your head.”

“If we’re closer, you can track her better, right?” vita asked. “Just give me a basic idea.”

“All right. They’re headin’ due south, but not very fast. And I think they’re pretty far south, too. Maybe the opposite side of the planet from the gates.”

“Got it. Everyone ready?”

“Let’s go,” said Liam.

Vita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A series of pops rang out with each teleportation, and she saved herself for last. As she was opening her eyes, she heard Kijani shout, “Holy shit, babe—get _down_!” She was then knocked flat by his full-body tackle, hearing his snarl of pain behind grit fangs. Her eyes opened immediately as they fell into a snow drift. She tried to sit up, but Kijani remained draped in her lap. When she looked at him, she saw the deep slash running the width of his back at the shoulder blades, and the orange blood pouring from the wound.

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

Kijani suddenly rolled over, holding out both hands covered in psionic fire. He stopped the swing of a black sword down at their heads, and Jack Noir kicked him in the face for his trouble. Vita teleported them away and brought the others with her.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” she hissed, rolling Kijani off of her and onto his stomach. Ignoring the heat of his blood, she put her hands on the wound, either side of his spine, and forced the matter of his body back into order.

“Better get us outta here,” he grunted. “We fuckin’ fell for it.”

“Fell for what?” Liam asked.

“This,” Vilmos said grimly.

Vita and Liam looked up, and the sight they found sent a chill through their veins. Advancing on them, gait casual, was Amie’s dreamself. In her hand was another black sword, and the other Jack Noir was close at her side. They smiled wide smiles; Noir snickered. Healed, Kijani got to his feet and pulled Vita up with him.

“Get us outta here,” he said quietly.

Vita could only stare at Amie, tears coming to her eyes.

“Vita, get us outta here!” he repeated. He saw her feet move and grabbed her around the waist before she could run to Amie. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare!”

“She’s my best friend!” she shouted, struggling against him. “I have to help her!”

“I’m not gonna let you get your head cut off by that thing!”

“She’s not a thing! She’s my friend!”

He heaved her up and onto his shoulder, ignoring the way she kicked him in the stomach. He nodded to Mahima, who snatched hold of Liam while he stood staring and still. They turned and ran, all the while Vita screaming for Kijani to let her go. Just as he ignored her kicked, he ignored her words, and they did not stop running for minutes on end. Only when Kijani leaped into the air, spun in a circle, and could not see anyone following them did they slow down. Vita kicked him a final time before he dropped her unceremoniously in the snow; she yelped as her rear hit something hard.

“We got maybe two minutes before they catch up,” he said, panting. “Get us outta here and back onto Lofaf. We’ll try again later.”

“Maybe you didn’t see her,” Vita shot back, rising to her feet, “but she needs help!

“That ain’t your girl anymore!” he shouted. “We’ve been over this! We gotta _go_!”

“Go where?” Liam asked, misery tainting his voice. “Derse already won. They have her.”

“We _knew_ they have her dreamself,” said Mahima. “That’s why we’re trying to kill her living body on her quest bed. Why are we arguing this again?”

“Because we hadn’t seen her up until now!” Vita replied. “She just needs help!”

“I’ll tell you who needs help!” Kijani continued to shout. He jabbed a finger toward something not too far away. “Those dumb motherfuckers!”

The others turned together. They saw three people. One had a set of horns they all recognized.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Mahima said faintly. She dropped to her knees, flinging snow over her shoulders. She stopped only when her fingers hit the stone she had nearly tripped on when they stopped running. She looked up. “We have to go back and fight.”

Kijani swept away the snow entirely, revealing the dark blue stone circle marked by a symbol beneath their feet. He turned back in the direction they had come from and had half a second to react to the sword coming out of the Void aimed at his neck. He jerked to one side, reaching into the Void and pulling Amie and the two Noirs out. Amie smiled again and pulled them back into the dark.

“No you fuckin’ _don’t_!” he shouted, and pulled even harder. It gave Vita time enough to block the swing one Noir made at her head, and Liam leaped back from the thrust going toward his belly. While Amie was distracted trying to wrest the greater power of the Void, Kijani charged headlong at her. He took her up off of her feet, pining her arms to her sides, and ran like mad. She thrashed against him with strength unsuited for her small frame, but he kept her as still as he could with his psionics.

Behind him the others were following, and behind them the Noirs gave chase. Even further behind them, Hugh noticed the commotion.

“Holy shit, what are so many people doing here?” he asked.

“Shut up and keep moving!” Devaki snapped.

He looked at her as she turned toward him. “Why is your nose bleeding?”

“I told you to shut up and move! I’m not going to be able to control her much longer!”

As if sensing this, Amie’s foot swung up and back, landing a hard blow between Hugh’s legs. He choked, releasing her hands and dropping to his knees. Devaki tackled her, again laying both hands flat on the sides of Amie’s head. It did not stop her from struggling, and she got her legs between them. She kicked Devaki off of her entirely, but Devaki leaped back onto her when Amie had rolled over onto her knees.

“Why’s she fighting us?” Hugh coughed out.

“Stop her time!” Devaki said. “The Gods are in her too much for me now!”

Gritting his teeth, he nodded and got to his feet. He hobbled to them, got out a wrench, and touched the back of Amie’s head. He came away with a gear, and he forced its rotation to stop.

“Take her!” he said. “I can’t stop someone else’s time for long!”

Without pausing to nod, she gathered Amie’s frozen body up in her arms and sprinted away. She got as far as the quest bed before Hugh’s grasp on her time failed and Amie began to fight anew. Devaki dropped her on the stone slab before kneeling down and clasping her by the forehead. The most she could do was exactly what she wanted.

“Sorry,” said Devaki, and she cut off Amie’s ability to feel pain before slitting her throat.

For a few seconds, what felt like a memory of great pain in her back filled her mind. The seconds passed and she tried to turn around. A hand grabbed her by the back of her cloak and yanked her off the bed, throwing her into a nearby pile of snow. She sat up to see Azriel storm forward, gun in hand, and shoot the Noir who stood frozen in time. He flung the Dersite corpse away and stepped off the bed.

As Amie bled out, her dreamself stopped trying to escape Kijani’s grasp and started to glow. She let out a scream so piercing he let her go and clapped his hands over his ears. Grimacing with the pain of it, he turned around. From all around, glimmering butterflies fluttered toward the quest bed. He let out a hoot of laughter, dodging the swing the last Noir aimed at his throat and punching him in the face.

Vita and Liam stared as light surged around the bed, so transfixed by the sight that it fell to Mahima, Vilmos, and Kijani to keep fighting Noir as he went berserk. It was only when Amie’s dreamself vanished with a flash and Noir screamed in rage that they paid attention again. Vita, half in a panic from the screams, teleported him to a random location on Derse.

Liam made a dash back to the quest bed, breath catching behind his tongue with anxiety. What awaited him was Amie’s dead body, covered in glowing butterflies. He gaped, his entire body going tense. He turned to Devaki, standing up from the snow, and only saw the blood staining her sleeves. She didn’t notice him in the slightest, staring up at Skaia with nothing but happiness in her face. The happiness vanished when Liam came to her and punched her in the throat.

He did not speak, did not make a sound. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and smashed his head against her nose. It took this flare of pain and realizing the fact that another pair of glasses had been broken before she reacted, and it was to punch him in the throat in return. Before Liam could strike her again, Azriel caught him in time. He summoned his com-set.

“Galina,” he said, “get us all on Prospit before our Thief brother loses his shit even more.” When he and Liam were the last people to be teleported, he released his grip on Liam’s time. Liam arrived some distance from Devaki, standing near Azriel with Hugh and Vita. He would have charged at Devaki, were it not for one last pop behind them.

They turned to find a short woman in a long blue tunic emblazoned with a symbol of six thin curving marks in a darker blue spaced out in a circle. Dark blue leggings stretched down to bare ankles and feet covered in soft-soled shoes of the same color. A long hood was pulled low on her face, covering to her nose until she pulled it back.

Amie ran to them and threw her arms first around Vita. She laughed until Vita hugged her back, and then laughed harder when Hugh gave a shout and wrapped his arms around them both.

“It worked!” he cried. “It _worked_!”

“My plans always work,” said Azriel.

Liam pushed past Hugh and Vita, crushing the breath out of Amie for how hard she hugged her. He whispered, “Thank God you’re okay.”

Amie hugged him briefly before squirming out of his grasp. When he caught her by the wrist and opened his mouth, she put her fingers over his lips. She told him, “No.”

“No?” he asked.

“I’m gay.”

He blinked. “So?”

“So _no_. I don’t like you like that, and I’m never going to. I’m sorry.”

“But—”

Hugh gripped his shoulder. “Leave it alone, man.”

“But—”

“ _Leave it_ ,” Vita said.

Very slowly, he let go of her wrist. At his look of dismay, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She said, “I’m really sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked.

“Because I thought you’d all hate me.”

“But…how could we hate _you_?”

“There were a lot of messed up feelings I had because of my mom,” Amie said in a rush. “Look, Liam, I’m sorry, but I have to—”

“Amie?”

Relief spilled onto her face at the sound of the voice. She stepped around Liam, searching for its owner. “Dev?”

Devaki started to point at herself, but was suddenly very aware of the stains on her sleeve, her bloody nose, and the glasses sitting broken on her face. She threw away her glasses but before she could wipe her face or concentrate to regenerate a clean outfit, Amie was upon her. She threw herself at Devaki so hard they nearly toppled over. Once more Amie laughed, and she buried her face in the bunched up material of Devaki’s hood at her neck. She said something, but it was too muffled to hear.

“What?” Devaki asked.

Amie leaned back but did not let her go. “I asked you to not throw me off a building this time.”

“Oh.” She snickered. “I can do that.” She started to say something else, but Amie wiped the blood away, pushed her mouth shut, and kissed her. Kijani whistled mockingly at them, but Devaki, eyes closed, only turned a middle finger toward him.

Azriel had the decency to wait until they had parted to speak. “Okay, now we’ve got to get working fast on the rest of us. Sitara, did you find my time brother’s—”

Something popped.

Baffled, Azriel looked about. “Who teleported what?” The others joined him in search for the source of the sound, but Vita did not. Azriel asked her, “What’re you doing, sister?”

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head as if coming out of a stupor. She turned to Devaki with a scowl. “Don’t control me out of the blue like that!”

“Vita,” Amie said slowly, “why did you send Liam away?”

Vita spun about at this question. Upon finding only herself and Hugh in the area, she whirled on Devaki again. “Show me where you sent him!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Devaki said in protest.

Amie shuddered visibly, looking up into the dark beyond Skaia. “Liam controlled Vita and sent himself somewhere.”

“Why do you know that?” Azriel asked.

“Because he just made himself a nexus of failure. He made Vita send him to Derse.”

———

DECIDE


End file.
